THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


a) 


CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS 


f  S3ai|3  m  iukmAmi  luhjrrts 


BY 

ARTHUR  PENRHYN  STANLEY,  D.D. 

DEAN    OF   WESTMINSTER 
AOTHOR  OF    "history   OF   THE    JEWISH    CHURCH"    "LIFE    OF   DR.  ARNOLD" 

" SINAI  AND  Palestine"  etc. 


NEW    YORK 
HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  FRANKLIN  SQUARE 

1881 
{Stereotyped  and  Printed  by  S.  W.  GreerCs  Son) 


PEEFACE. 


This  volume,  though  not  pretending  to  completeness,  forms 
a  connected  whole.  The  Essays  touch  on  a  variety  of  topics, 
and  were  written  at  long  intervals  of  time,  but  they  are  united 
by  the  common  bond  which  connects  the  institutions  to  which 
they  relate.  It  may  be  well  to  state  here  some  of  the  general 
conclusions  which  they  suggest. 

1.  Underneath  the  sentiments  and  usages  which  have  accu- 
mulated round  the  forms  of  Christianity,  it  is  believed  that 
there  is  a  class  of  principles — a  Religion  as  it  were  behind  the 
religion — which,  however  dimly  expressed,  has  given  them 
whatever  vitality  they  possess.  It  is  not  intended  to  assert 
that  these  principles  were  continuously  present  to  the  minds  of 
the  early  Christians,  or  that  they  were  not  combined  with  much 
heterogeneous  matter  wdiich  interfered  with  their  develop- 
ment. But  it  is  maintained  that  there  is  enough  in  them  of 
valuable  truth  to  give  to  these  ancient  institutions  a  i;se  in 
times  and  circumstances  most  different  from  those  in  which 
they  originated.  If  this  be  shown  to  be  the  case,  the  main  pur- 
pose of  these  Essays  will  have  been  accomplished.  The  Sacra- 
ments— the  Clergy — the  Pope — the  Creed — will  take  a  long 
time  in  dying,  if  die  they  must.  It  is  not  useless  to  indicate  a 
rational  point  of  view,  from  which  they  may  be  approached, 
and  to  show  the  germs  which,  without  a  violent  dislocation, 
may  be  developed  into  higher  truth. 

2.  The  entire  unlikeness  of  the  early  days  of  Christianity  (or, 
if  we  prefer  so  to  put  it,  of  the  times  of  the  Roman  Empire)  to 
our  own  is  a  point  which  such  a  study  will  bring  out.  It  has 
been  truly  said  to  be  a  great  misfortune  in  one  who  treats  of 


Vi  PREFACE. 

theological  subjects  to  have  the  power  of  seeing  likenesses  with- 
out the  power  of  seeing  differences.  In  practical  matters  the 
power  of  seeing  likenesses  is  certainly  a  rare  and  valuable  gift. 
The  divergencies  and  disputes  of  theologians  or  theological 
parties  have  been  in  great  measure  occasioned  by  the  want  of 
it.  But  in  historical  matters  the  power  of  seeing  differences 
cannot  be  too  highly  prized.  The  tendency  of  ordinary  men 
is  to  invest  every  age  with  the  attributes  of  their  own  time. 
This  is  specially  the  case  in  religious  history.  The  Puritan 
idea  that  there  was  a  Biblical  counterpart  to  every — the  most 
trivial — incident  or  institution  of  modern  ecclesiastical  life,  and 
that  all  ecclesiastical  statesmanship  consisted  in  reducing  the 
varieties  of  civilization  to  the  crudity  of  the  times  when  Chris- 
tianity was  as  yet  in  its  infancy,  has  met  with  an  unsparing 
criticism  from  the  hand  of  Hooker.  The  same  fancy  has  been 
exhibited  on  a  larger  scale  by  the  endeavor  of  Roman  Cath- 
olic and  High  Church  divines  to  discover  their  own  theories  of 
the  Papacy,  the  Hierarchy,  the  administration  of  the  Sacra- 
ments, in  the  early  Church.  Such  a  passion  for  going  back  to 
an  imaginary  past,  or  transferring  to  the  past  the  peculiarities 
of  later  times,  may  be  best  corrected  by  keeping  in  view  the 
total  unlikeness  of  the  first,  second,  or  third  centuries  to  any- 
thing which  now  exists  in  any  part  of  the  world. 

3.  This  reluctance  to  look  the  facts  of  history  in  the  face  has 
favored  the  growth  of  a  vast  superstructure  of  fable.  It  used 
to  be  said  in  the  early  days  of  the  revival  of  mystical  and  ec- 
clesiastical Christianity  at  Oxford  that  it  was  impossible  to  con- 
ceive that  the  media3val  system  could  ever  have  been  devel- 
oped out  of  a  state  of  things  quite  dissimilar.  "  That  is  the 
fundamental  fallacy  of  the  ecclesiastical  theory,"  it  was  re- 
marked in  answer  by  a  distinguished  statesman.  "  It  is  for- 
gotten how  very  soon,  out  of  a  state  of  things  entirely  oppo- 
site, may  be  born  a  religious  system  which  claims  to  be  the 
genuine  successor.  AVitness  the  growth  of  '  the  Catholic  and 
Apostolic  Church,'  with  its  hierarchy  and  liturgy,  out  of  the 
bald  Presbyterianism  and  excited  utterances  of  Edward  Irving 
and  his  companions."  A  like  example  might  be  pointed  out 
in  the  formation  of  the  Society  of  Friends,  as  founded  by  Wil- 
liam Penn  and  his  associates,  with  the  sober  self-control  which 
has  ever  since  characterized  them,  out  of  the  enthusiastic,  strange, 


PREFACE.  vii 

indecorous  acts  of  George  Fox.  Another  might  be  found  in 
the  succession  which,  though  with  some  exaggeration,  has  been 
traced,  of  the  Oxford  movement  to  the  Wesleyan  or  so-called 
Evangelical  movement  of  the  last  generation. 

Such  a  transformation  may  have  occurred  with  regard  to 
Christianity.  If  its  earlier  forms  were  quite  unlike  to  those 
which  have  sprung  out  of  them,  it  may  be  instructive  to  see  in 
various  instances  the  process  by  which  the  change  took  place. 
It  does  not  follow  that  the  earlier  form  was  more  correct  than 
the  later;  but  it  is  necessary  to  a  candid  view  of  the  subject  to 
know  that  it  existed. 

4.  Another  point  which  is  disclosed  in  any  attempt  to  go 
below  the  surface  of  ecclesiastical  history  is  the  strong  contrast 
between  the  under-current  of  popular  feeling  and  the  manifesta- 
tions of  opinion  in  the  published  literature  of  the  time.  Es- 
pecially is  this  brought  to  light  in  the  representations  of  the 
Roman  catacombs — hardly  to  be  recognized  in  any  work  of  any 
Christian  writer  of  the  time,  and  yet  unquestionably  familiar  to 
the  Christians  of  that  age.  Forms  often  retain  an  impress  of 
the  opinions  of  which  they  were  the  vehicles,  long  after  the 
opinions  themselves  have  perished. 

5.  There  is  an  advantage  in  perceiving  clearly  the  close  com- 
munity of  origin  which  unites  secular  and  sacred  usages.  It  is 
evident  that  the  greater  part  of  the  early  Christian  institutions 
sprang  from  social  customs  which  prevailed  at  the  time.  It  is 
satisfactory  to  see  that  this  community  of  thought,  which  it 
has  been  the  constant  effort  of  later  times  to  tear  asunder,  was 
not  unknown  to  the  primitive  epoch.  It  has  been  the  tendency 
of  the  lower  and  more  vulgar  forms  of  religious  life  to  separate 
the  secular  and  the  sacred.  It  will  always  be  the  tendency  of 
the  loftier  forms  of  religious  thought  to  bring  them  together. 
Such  a  union  is,  to  a  certain  extent,  exhibited  in  these  early 
centuries. 

6.  It  has  been  attempted  to  find  on  all  these  points  a  better 
and  not  the  darker  side  of  these  institutions.  This  is  a  princi- 
ple which  may  bo  pushed  to  excess.  But  it  is  believed  to  be 
safer  and  more  generous  than  the  reverse  policy.  No  doubt 
every  one  of  these  forms  has  a  magical  or  superstitious  element. 
But  even  for  the  purpose  of  superseding  those  barbarous  ele- 
ments, it  is  wiser  to  dwell  on  the  noble  and  spiritual  aspect 


viii  PREFACE. 

which  the  same  forms  may  wear ;  and  with  the  purpose  of  rec- 
onciling the  ultimate  progress  of  civilization  with  Christianity, 
it  is  the  only  course  which  can  be  advantageously  pursued. 

7.  Finally,  two  conclusions  are  obvious.  First,  that  which 
existed  in  the  early  ages  of  the  Church  cannot  be  deemed  in- 
compatible with  its  essence  in  later  ages.  Secondly,  that  which 
did  not  exist  in  primitive  times  cannot  be  deemed  indispensa^ 
ble  to  the  essence  of  the  Church,  either  late  or  early. 

Deanery,  Westminstek: 
December,  1880. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  L 

BAPTltSM. 

Baptism  in  the  Apostolic  age  .  .  . 

Baptism  in  the  Patristic  age        .  .    ,      . 

L  The  Meaning  of  Baptism : 
1.  As  an  act  of  cleansing 
^      2.  As  a  plunge    ...... 

3.  As  an  assimUation  of  the  Christian  character 
il.  Changes  in  Baptism: 

1.  The  opinions  concerning  it     . 

2.  The  form  of  administration 


PACK 

.        1 

4 

5 

.    e 

7 
.    10 

12 
.     12 

17 


CHAPTER  H. 

THE   EUCHARIST. 

The  time  of  its  first  institution 

1.  Its  connection  with  Judaism 

2.  Selection  of  the  most  universal  elements 

3.  Parting  meal      ..... 

4.  Its  future  meaning 


19 
80 
30 
31 
82 


CHAPTER  in. 


THE  EUCHARIST   IN  THE   EARLY  CHURCH. 

I.  Its  festive  character      .... 
n.  Its  evening  character 
in.  The  posture  of  the  recipient   , 
IV.  The  elements  ..... 
The  bread  ..... 

The  wine  and  water 
The  fish  ...... 

V.  The  Uble 

VI.  The  posture  and  position  of  the  minister  . 
Vn.  Reading  of  the  Scriptures;  the  ambones 

:in.  The  Homily 

IX.  The  kiss  of  peace      .... 
X.  The  Liturgy         ..... 
The  offering  of  the  bread  and  wine    . 
The  Lord's  Prayer    .... 


37 
41 
42 
43 
48 
44 
45 
47 
47 
49 
50 
51 
52 
54 
56 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  EUCHARISTIC   SACRIFICE 


I.  The  ancient  idea  of  Sacrifice     . 
II.  Substitution  of  new  ideas 

1.  Prayer  and  praise 

2.  Charitable  efforts    . 

3.  Self-sacrifice 

III.  Exemplified  in  the  Gospel  History  . 

IV .  Exemplified  in  the  Christian  Church 
V.  Exemplified  in  the  Eucharist 


60 

61 
62 
63 
63 
64 
65 
71 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE   REAL  PRESENCE. 

The  spiritual  and  moral  presence  of  the  Redeemer 
Reasons  for  its  rejection  by  the  Catholic  Chxirch 
1.   Misuse  of  i)aral)olical  language 
II.   Prevalence  of  niatric    .  .  .  ^  . 

III.  Union  of  pliysical  with  moral  ideas    . 

IV.  Mixliire  of  ideas  in  the  Lutheran  Chiirch 
V.  WUiure  of  ideas  in  the  English  Church 


PAGE 

.  73 
74 

.  75 
76 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  BODY  AND  BLOOD  OF  CHRIST. 

1    Use  of  the  words  in  St.  John's  Gospel  .           .           .           .           ,  .93 

U.  Use  of  tlie  words  in  the  Synoptic  Gospels  .....  95 

1.  The  Body,  the  essence  of  Christ's  character        .           .           .  .96 

2  The  Body,  the  C'hristian  community      .....  100 

3.  The  Blood  of  Christ  the  hineiuiost  essence  of  Christ's  character  .  103 

Love 105 

Attestation     .           .           .           .           .           .           .           .  .108 

Enthiisiasm          ........  109 

Cleansuig       .........  110 


CHAPTER  Vn. 

ABSOLUTION. 

I.  Binding  and  loosing  ..... 

Remitting  and  retaining        ..... 
n.  Universal  application  of  the  words 
ni.  Use  uf  the  words  in  the  Ordination  Service 
IV.  Application  of  the  words  to  confession  and  absolution 


119 
121 
122 

la? 
129 


CHAPTER  Vm. 


ECCLESIASTICAL  VESTMENTS, 

I.  Antiquarian  import 
n.  Dress  of  the  ancient  world 

1.  Tlie  shirt . 

2.  The  shawl      . 

3.  Tlie  overcoat 
in.  Their  secular  origin    . 

Tlieir  transformation 

Their  contrasts  .... 

Importance  of  maintaining  their  indifference 

The  Oriianients'  Rubric 

Attention  to  matters  of  real  importance 


135 
136 
136 
138 
139 
141 
143 
149 
152 
153 
158 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  BASILICA. 


Its  form    ...... 

Its  adaptation  to  Christian  worship 
The  popular  character  of  Christian  worship 
The  secular  origin  of  Christian  usages  . 
The  use  of  art    ..... 


163 
164 
166 
166 
168 


CONTENTS. 


XI 


CHAPTEE  X. 


THE   CLERGY. 

L  The  facts  of  the  Institution 

1.  The  identity  of  Bishop  and  Presbyter 
8.  Origin  of  the  orders 

3.  Vestiges  of  primitive  usages 

4.  The  Deacons 
6.  Appointment 

6.  Forms  of  ordination 

7.  Their  ministrations 
n.  Growth  of  the  clergy 

Origin  of  episcopacy  . 
III.  Origin  of  the  clergy 


PAGE 

.  171 
172 

.  172 
17:^ 

.  17<1 
\~h 

.  175 
175 

.  170 
177 

.  178 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE  POPE. 

The  Pope:— 

Compared  with  the  Emperor  and  the  Sultan 
I.  As  the  representative  of  Christian  antiquity 
n.  As  successor  of  the  Emperors  of  Rome 
m.  As  Italian  prince  .... 

IV.  As  "  the  Pope"      ..... 
V.  As  the  chief  ecclesiastic 
VI.  His  mixed  character         .... 
NoTK.    His  postui'e  in  tie  Communion    . 


182 
184 
186 
192 
194 
201 
203 
207 


CHAPTER  Xn. 

THE  LITANY. 


I.  Its  origin 
n.  Its  contents 
lU.  Its  form 


214 
217 
219 


CHAPTER  Xm. 


THE   ROMAN  CATACOMBS. 

I.  Their  structure      .... 
II.  Their  pictures    .... 
IH.  Their  characteristic  ideas 

1.  Cheerfulness 

2.  Choice  of  heathen  subjects  . 

3.  Gracefulness  of  art 
IV.  Christian  ideas       .... 

1.  Good  Shepherd: 

(a)  Connection  with  heathen  idefis 

(b)  Joyous  aspect 
ic)  Latitude 
(a)  Simplicity 

2.  The  Vine  .... 

(a)  Jovousness    . 
ib)  wide  diflfusion    . 

(c)  Variety 
V.  Epitaphs      ..... 

1.  Their  simplicity 

2.  Their  idea  of  rest 

3.  The  idea  of  immortality   . 
\1.  Conclusion  ..... 


226 
227 
^■i» 
229 
229 

am 

231 
^M 
2a3 
234 
2;« 
2.3.5 
2.30 
23(i 
237 
238 
238 
2:18 
239 
240 
841 


xu 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XrV. 

THE  CREED  OF  THE  EARLY  CHRISTIANS. 


The  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy  Ghost 
1.  Meaning  of  the  words: 

1.  The  Father 

2.  The  Son         .... 

3.  The  Spirit  ... 

n.  Their  union        .... 

Tlieir  separation    ... 
III.  Conclusion         .... 


PAGE 

.  243 

244 

.  245 

246 
.  251 

253 
.  255 

257 


CHAPTER  rV. 

THE  lord's  PRAYER. 


1.  Its  tmiversality 

2.  Its  Liturgical  form  .  . 

3.  Its  varieties    .... 

4.  Its  selection  from  Rabbinical  writings 

5.  Its  brevity       .... 

6.  Its  contents  .... 

7.  Its  conclusion .... 


260 

261 
262 
263 
264 
265 
267 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE  COCTNCIL  AND  CREED  OF  CONSTANTINOPLE. 


Gregory  Nazianzen 

Maxinius         .... 

Funeral  of  Athanaric    . 

Deposition  of  Gregory 

Election  of  Nectarius  . 

End  of  Council 

Creed  of  Constantinople 

Councils  of  Ephesus  and  Chalcedon 


270 
273 

277 
282 
285 
287 
288 
294 


CHAPTER  XVn, 

THE  TEN  COMMANDMENTS. 


I.  The  Ten  Commandments 

1.  Israelite  arrangements 

2.  Christian  arrangements 
II.  Their  importance 

ni.  Their  spirit  . 

1.  First  Commandment 

2.  Second  Commandment 

3.  Third  t'oniniandnient 

4.  Fourth  Coiniiiamlment 

5.  Fifth  Coniniaiidinent 

6.  Sixth  Commandment . 

7.  Seventh  Commandment 

8.  Eighth  Commandment 

9.  Ninth  Commandment 

10.  Tenth  Commandment 
IV.  The  Two  G'eat  Commandment; 

V.  The  Fipht  Beatitudes      . 
VI.  The  Eleventh  Commandment 

ADDENDA 

INDEX      .... 


806 
306 
307 
308 
309 
310 
310 
311 
311 
313 
313 
314 
314 
315 
316 
316 
817 
818 


896 


CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

BAX'TISM. 


What  was  Baptism  in  the  Apostolic  age  ?  It  coincided 
witli  a  vast  religious  change  both  of  individuals  and  of  nations. 
Multitudes  of  men  and  women  were  seized  with  one  Baptism  in 
common  impulse,  and  abandoned,  by  the  irresist-  the  Apos- 
ible  conviction  of  a  day,  an  hour,  a  moment,  their  "  ^^  ^^^' 
former  habits,  friends,  associates,  to  be  enrolled  in  a  new 
society  under  the  banner  of  a  new  faith.  That  new  society 
was  intended  to  be  a  society  of  "  brothers ; "  bound  by  ties 
closer  than  any  earthly  brotherhood,  filled  with  life  and  energy 
such  as  fall  to  the  lot  of  none  but  the  most  ardent  enthusiasts, 
yet  tempered  by  a  moderation  and  a  wisdom  such  as  enthu- 
siasts have  rarely  possessed.  It  was  moreover  a  society  swayed 
by  the  presence  of  men  whose  words  even  now  cause  the  heart 
to  burn,  and  by  the  recent  recollections  of  One,  Avhom  "  not 
seeing  they  loved  with  love  unspeakable."  Into  this  society 
they  passed  by  an  act  as  natural  as  it  was  expressive.  The 
plunge,  into  the  bath  of  purification,  long  known  among  the 
Jewish  nation  as  the  symbol  of  a  change  of  life,  had  been  re- 
vived with  a  fresh  energy  by  the  Essenes,  and  it  received  a 
definite  signification  and  impulse  from  the  austere  prophet 
who  derived  his  name  from  the  ordinance.*  This  rite  was 
retained  as  the  pledge  of  entrance  into  a  new  and  universal 
communion.  In  that  early  age  the  scene  of  the  transaction 
was  either  some  deep  wayside  spring  or  well,  as  for  the  Ethio- 
pian, or  some  rushing  ri\er,  as  the  Jordan,  or  some  vast  rcser- 

*  For  John  the  Baptist,  see  Lectures  on  the  Jewish  Church,  iii.  399. 


2  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

voir,  as  at  Jericho*  or  Jerusalem,  whitlier,  as  in  the  Baths  of 
Caracalla  at  Rome,  the  Avhole  population  resorted  for  swim- 
ming or  washing. 

The  earliest  scene  of  the  immersion  was  in  the  Jordan. 
That  rushing  river — the  one  river  of  Palestine — found  at  last 
its  fit  purpose.  Although  no  details  are  given  of  the  external 
parts  of  the  cei'emony,  a  lively  notion  may  be  formed  of  the 
transaction  by  the  scene  which  now  takes  place  at  the  bathing 
of  the  pilgrims  at  Easter. f  Their  approach  to  the  spot  is  by 
night.  Above  is  the  bright  Paschal  moon,  before  tliem  moves 
a  bright  flare  of  torches,  on  each  side  huge  watch-fires  break 
the  darkness  of  the  night,  and  act  as  beacons  for  the  successive 
descents  of  the  road.  The  sun  breaks  over  the  eastern  hills 
as  the  head  of  the  cavalcade  reaches  the  brink  of  the  Jordan. 
The  Sacred  River  rushes  through  its  thicket  of  tamarisk, 
poplar,  willow,  and  agnus-castus,  with  rapid  eddies,  and  of  a 
turbid  yellow  color,  like  the  Tiber  at  Rome,  and  about  as 
broad.  They  dismount,  and  set  to  work  to  perform  their 
bath;  most  on  the  open  space, — some  further  up  amongst  the 
thickets ;  some  plunging  in  naked,  most,  however,  with  white 
dresses,  which  they  bring  with  them,  and  which,  having  been 
so  used,  are  kept  for  their  winding-sheets.  Most  of  the 
bathers  keep  within  the  shelter  of  the  bank,  where  the  water  is 
about  four  feet  in  depth,  though  with  a  bottom  of  very  deep 
mud.  The  Coptic  pilgrims  are  curiously  distinguished  from 
the  rest  by  the  boldness  with  which  they  dart  into  the 
main  current,  striking  the  water  after  their  fashion  alternately 
with  their  two  arms,  and  playing  with  the  eddies,  which  hurry 
them  down  and  across  as  if  they  were  in  the  cataracts  of  their 
own  Nile;  crashing  through  the  thick  boughs  of  the  jungle 
which,  on  the  eastern  bank  of  the  stream,  intercepts  their 
progress,  and  then  recrossing  the  river  higher  up,  wliere  they 
can  wade,  assisted  by  long  poles  which  they  have  cut  from  the 
opposite  thickets.  It  is  remarkable,  considering  the  mixed 
assemblage  of  men  and  women,  in  such  a  scene,  that  there 
is  so  little  appearance  of  levity  or  indecorum.     A  primitive 

*  Compare  the  accoiznt  of  the  young  courtiers  of  Herod  plunging  in  the  tank 
at  .Tericho.    .Joseph.  Ant.  xv.  33.    The  word  ficXTtritoo  is  used  for  it. 

+  Tliis  account  is  taken  from  Sinai  and  Falcsiine,  chap.  7.  I  have  hardly 
altered  it,  lest  the  original  impression  should  be  lost. 


BAPTISM.  3 

domestic  cliaracter  pervades  in  a  singular  form  the  whole 
transaction.  The  families  which  have  come  on  their  single 
mule  or  camel  now  bathe  together,  with  the  utmost  gravity; 
the  father  receiving  from  the  mother  the  infant,  which  has 
been  brought  to  receive  the  one  immersion  which  will  suffice 
for  the  rest  of  its  life,  and  thus,  by  a  curious  economy  of 
resources,  save  it  from  the  expense  and  danger  of  a  future 
pilgrimage  m  after-years.  In  about  two  hours  the  shores  are 
cleared;  with  the  same  quiet  they  remount  their  camels  and 
horses;  and  before  the  noonday  heat  has  set  in,  are  again 
tjncamped  on  the  upper  plain  of  Jericho.  Once  more  they  may 
be  seen.  At  the  dead  of  night,  the  drum  again  wakes  them 
for  their  homeward  march.  The  torches  again  go  before; 
behind  follows  the  vast  multitude,  mounted,  passing  in  pro- 
found silence  over  that  silent  plain — so  silent  that,  but  for  the 
tinkling  of  the  drum,  its  departure  would  hardly  be  perceptible. 
The  troops  stay  on  the  ground  to  the  end,  to  guard  the  rear,  and 
when  the  last  roll  of  the  drum  announces  that  the  last  soldier 
is  gone,  the  whole  plain  returns  again  to  its  perfect  solitude. 

Such,  on  the  whole,  was  the  first  Baptism.  We  are  able  to 
track  its  history  through  the  next  three  centuries.  The  rite 
was  still  in  great  measure  what  in  its  origin  it  had  been  almost 
universally,  the  change  from  darkness  to  light,  from  evil  to 
good;  the  "second  birth"  of  men  from  the  corrupt  society  of 
the  dying  Roman  Empire  into  the  purifying  and  for  the  most 
part  elevating  influence  of  the  living  Christian  Church.  In 
some  respects  the  moral  responsibility  of  the  act  must  have 
been  impressed  upon  the  converts  by  the  severe,  sometimes  the 
life-long,  preparation  for  the  final  pledge,  more  deeply  than  by 
the  sudden  and  almost  instantaneous  transition  which  charac- 
terized the  Baptism  of  the  Apostolic  age.  But  gradually  the 
consciousness  of  this  "questioning  of  the  good  conscience 
towards  God"  was  lost  in  the  stress  laid  with  greater  and 
greater  emphasis  on  the  "  putting  away  the  filth  of  the  flesh." 

Let  us  conceive  ourselves  present  at  those  extraordinary 
scenes,  to  which  no  existing  ritual  of  any  European  Church 
offers  any  likeness.  There  was,  as  a  general  rule,  but  one 
baptistery*  in   each  city,  and   such   baptisteries   were  apart 

*  At  Kome  there  was  more  than  one. 


4  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

from  the  cliurches.  There  was  but  one  time  of  the  year  when 
the  rite  was  administered — namely,  between  Easter 
in  the  Pa-  and  Pentecost.  There  was  but  one  personage  who 
tristic  age.  coukl  administer  it — the  presiding  officer  of  the  com- 
munity, the  Bishop,  as  the  Chief  Presbyter  was  called  after 
the  first  century.  There  Avas  but  one  hour  for  the  ceremony; 
it  was  midnight.  The  torches  flared  through  the  dark  hall 
as  the  troops  of  converts  flocked  in.  The  baptistery  *  con- 
sisted of  an  inner  and  an  outer  chamber.  In  the  outer 
chamber  stood  the  candidates  for  baptism,  stripped  to  their 
shirts;  and,  turning  to  the  west  as  the  region  of  sunset, 
they  stretched  forth  their  hands  through  the  dimly  lit  chamber, 
as  in  a  defiant  attitude  towards  the  Evil  Spirit  of  Darkness, 
and  speaking  to  him  by  name,  said:  "1  renounce  thee,  Satan, 
and  all  thy  works,  and  all  thy  pomp,  and  all  thy  service." 
Then  they  turned,  like  a  regiment,  facing  right  round  to  the 
east,  and  repeated,  in  a  form  more  or  less  long,  the  belief  in 
the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Spirit,  which  has  grown  up  into 
the  so-called  Apostles'  Creed  in  the  West,  and  the  so-called 
Nicene  Creed  in  the  East.  They  then  advanced  into  the 
inner  chamber.  Before  them  yawned  the  deep  pool  or  reser- 
voir, and  standing  by  the  deacon,  or  deaconess,  as  the  case 
might  be,  to  ai'range  that  all  should  be  done  with  decency. 
The  whole  troop  undressed  completely  as  if  for  a  bath,  and 
stood  up,f  naked,  before  the  Bishop,  who  put  to  each  the 
questions,  to  which  the  answer  was  returned  in  a  loud  and  dis- 
tinct voice,  as  of  those  who  knew  what  they  had  undertaken. 
They  then  plunged  into  the  water.  Both  before  and  after  the 
immersion  their  bare  limbs  were  rubbed  with  oil  from  head  to 
foot;  J  they  were  then  clothed  in  white  gowns,  and  received, 
as  token  of  the  kindly  felling  of  their  new  brotherhood,  the  kiss 
of  peace,  and  a  taste  of  honey  and  milk;  and  they  expressed 
their  new  faith  by  using  for  the  first  time  the  Lord's  Prayer. 
These  are  the  outer  forms  of  which,  in  the  Western  Churches, 

*  In  the  most  beautiful  baptistery  in  the  world,  at  Pisa,  baptisms  even  in  the 
Middle  Apes  only  took  place  on  the  two  days  of  the  Nativity  and  the  Decol- 
lation of  John  tlie  Baptist,  and  the  nobles  stood  in  the  galleries  to  witness  the 
ceremony.  See  Dr.  Smith's  Dictionary  of  Christian  Antiquities,  i.  pp.  160, 
161. 

+  Bingham,  xi.  2,  §  1,3. 

i  Ibid.  xi.  !),  S  -^  W;  xii.  1,  4.  Possibly  after  immersion  the  undressing  and 
the  anointing  were  partial. 


BAPTISM.  6 

almost  ever}^  particular  is  altered  even  in  tlie  most  material 
points.  Immersion  has  become  the  exception  and  not  the  rule. 
Adult  baptism,  as  well  as  immersion,  exists  only  among  the 
Baptists.  The  dramatic  action  of  the  scene  is  lost.  The 
anointing,  like  the  bath,  is  reduced  to  a  few  drops  of  oil  in  the 
Roman  Church,  and  in  the  Protestant  churches  has  entirely  dis- 
appeared. What  once  could  only  be  administered  by  Bishops, 
is  now  administered  by  every  clergyman,  and  throughout  the 
Roman  Church  by  laymen  and  even  by  women.  We  propose 
4hen  to  ask  what  is  the  residue  of  the  meaning  of  Baptism 
which  has  survived,  and  what  we  may  learn  from  it,  and  from 
the  changes  through  which  it  has  passed. 

I.  The  ordinance  of  Baptism  was  founded  on  the  Jewish — 
we  may  say  the  Oriental — custom,  which,  both  in  ancient  and 
modern  times,  regards  ablution,  cleansing  of  the  hands,  the 
face,  and  the  person,  at  once  as  a  means  of  health  and  as  a  sign 
of  purity.  AVe  shall  presently  see  that  here  as  elsewhere  the 
Founder  of  Christianity  chose  rather  to  sanctify  and  elevate 
what  already  existed  than  to  create  and  invent  a  new  form  for 
Himself.  Baptism  is  the  oldest  ceremonial  ordinance  that 
Christianity  possesses;  it  is  the  only  one  which  is  inherited 
from  Judaism.  It  is  thus  interesting  as  the  only  ordinance  of 
the  Christian  Church  which  equally  belonged  to  the  merciful 
Jesus  and  the  austere  John.  Out  of  all  the  manifold  religious 
practices  of  the  ancient  law — sacrifices,  offerings,  temple,  taber- 
nacle, scapegoat,  sacred  vestments,  sacred  trumpets — He  chose 
this  one  alone;  the  most  homely,  the  most  universal,  the  most 
innocent  of  all.  He  might  have  chosen  the  peculiar  Nazarite 
custom  of  the  long  tresses  and  the  rigid  abstinence  by  which 
Samson  and  Samuel  and  John  had  been  dedicated  to  the  ser- 
vice of  the  Lord.  He  did  nothing  of  the  sort.  He  might  have 
continued  the  strange  and  painful  rite  of  circumcision.  He, 
or  at  least  His  Apostles  rejected  it  altogether.  He  might  have 
chosen  some  elaborate  ceremonial  like  the  initiation  into  the 
old  Egyptian  and  Grecian  mysteries.  He  chose  instead  what 
every  one  could  understand.  He  took  what,  at  least  in  East- 
ern and  Southern  countries,  was  the  most  delightful,  the  most 
ordinary,  the  most  salutary,  of  social  observances. 

1.  By  choosing  water  and  the  use  of  the  bath.  He  indicated 
one  chief  characteristic  of  the   Christian  relioion.     AMiatever 


6  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

else  the  Christian  was  to  be,  Baptism  * — the  use  of  water — ■ 
^  showed  that  he  was  to  be  clean  and  pure,  in  body, 

a  cleansing    soul,  and  spirit ;  clean  even  in  body.     Cleanliness  is 
"''®'  a  duty  which  some  of  the  monastic  communities  of 

Christendom  have  despised,  and  some  have  even  treated  as  a 
crime.  But  such  was  not  the  mind  of  Him  who  chose  the 
washing  with  water  for  the  prime  ordinance  of  His  followers. 
"Wash  and  be  clean"  was  tlie  prophet's  admonition  of  old  to 
the  Syrian  whom  he  sent  to  bathe  in  the  river  Jordan.  It  was 
the  text  of  the  one  only  sermon  by  which  a  well-known  geol- ' 
o^gist  of  this  country  was  known  to  his  generation.  "Cleanli- 
ness next  to  godliness"  was  the  maxim  of  the  great  religious 
prophet  of  England  in  the  last  century,  John  Wesley.  With 
the  Essenes,  amongst  whom  Baptism  originated,  we  may  almost 
say  that  it  was  godliness. j-  If  the  early  Christians  had,  as  Ave 
shall  see,  their  daily  Communion,  the  Essenes,  for  the  sake  of 
maintaining  their  punctilious  cleanliness,  had  even  more  than 
daily  Baptism.  Every  time  that  we  see  the  drops  of  water 
poured  over  the  face  in  Baptism,  they  are  signs  to  us  of  the 
cleanly  habits  which  our  Master  prized  when  He  founded  the 
rite  of  Baptism,  and  when,  by  His  own  Baptism  in  the  sweet 
soft  stream  of  the  rapid  Jordan,  He  blessed  the  element  of 
water  for  use  as  the  best  and  choicest  of  God's  natural  gifts  to 
man  in  his  thirsty,  weary,  wayworn  passage  througli  the  dust 
and  heat  of  the  world.  But  the  cleanness  of  the  body,  in  the 
adoption  of  Baptism  by  Christ  and  His  forerunner,  was  meant 
to  indicate  the  perfect  cleanness,  the  unsullied  purity  of  the 
soul;  or,  as  the  English  Baptismal  Service  quaintly  expresses 
it,  the  mystical  Avashing  away  of  sin — that  is,  the  washing, 
cleansing  process  that  effaces  the  dark  spots  of  selfishness  and 
passion  in  the  human  character,  in  which,  by  nature  and  by 
habit,  they  had  been  so  deeply  ingrained.  It  was  a  homely 
maxim  of  Keble,  "Associate  the  idea  of  sin  Avith  the  idea  of 
dirt."     It  indicates  also  that  as  the  Christian   heart  must  be 


*  This  is  the  meaning  of  the  frequent  reference  to  "  water  "  in  St.  John's 
writings.  As  in  John  vi.  54,  the  phrases  "eating"  and  "drinking,"  "flesh 
and  blood,"  refer  to  the  spiritual  nourishment  of  which  the  Eucharist,  never 
mentioned  in  the  Fourth  Gosiiel,  was  the  outward  expression,  so  in  John  iii.  5, 
the  word  "  water"  refers  to  the  moral  purity  symbolized  by  Haptism.  which 
in  like  manner  (as  a  universal  institution)  is  never  meutioncd  in  that  Gospel. 

t  Ledums  on  the  Jewish  Church,  iii.  3'J7. 


BAPTISM.  7 

bathed  in  an  atmosphere  of  purity,  so  the  Christian  mind  must 
he  bathed  in  an  atmosphere  of  truth,  of  love  of  truth,  of  per- 
fect truthfuhiess,  of  transparent  veracity  and  sincerity.  What 
filthy,  indecent  talk  or  action  is  to  the  heart  and  affections, 
that  a  lie  however  white,  a  fraud  however  pious,  is  to  the  mind 
and  conscience.  Sir  Isaac  Newton  is  said  by  his  friends  to 
have  had  the  whitest  soul  that  they  ever  knew.  That  is  the 
likeness  of  a  truly  Christian  soul  as  indicated  by  the  old  bap- 
tismal washing:  the  whiteness  of  purity,  the  clearness  and 
transparency  of  truth. 

There  was  one  form  of  this  idea  which  continued  far  down 
into  the  Middle  Ages,  long  after  it  had  been  dissociated  from 
Baptism,  but  which  may  be  given  as  an  illustration  of  the 
same  idea  represented  by  the  same  form.  The  order  of 
knighthood  in  England,  of  which  the  banners  hang  in  King 
Henry  the  Seventh's  Chapel  in  Westminster  Abbey,  and  which 
is  distinguished  from  all  the  other  orders  as  the  "most  honora- 
ble," is  called  the  Order  of  the  Bath.  This  name  was  given 
because  in  the  early  days  of  chivalry,  the  knights,  who  were 
enlisted  in  defence  of  right  against  wrong,  truth  against  false- 
hood, honor  against  dishonor,  on  the  evening  before  they  were 
admitted  to  the  Order,  were  laid  in  a  bath*  and  thoroughly 
washed,  in  order  to  show  how  bright  and  pure  ought  to  be  the 
lives  of  those  who  engage  in  noble  enterprises.  Sir  Galahad, 
amongst  King  Arthur's  Knights  of  the  Round  Table,  is  the 
type  at  once  of  a  true  ancient  Knight  of  the  Bath  and  of  a  true 
Apostolic  Christian. 

My  good  blade  carves  the  helms  of  men, 

My  tough  lance  thrusteth  sure ; 
My  strength  is  as  the  strength  of  ten, 

Because  my  heart  is  pure. 

2.  This  leads  us  to  the  second  characteristic  of  the  act  of 
Baptism.     "  Baptism"  was  not  only  a  bath,  but  a  plunge — an 
entire  submersion  in  the  deep  water,  a  leap  as  into 
the  rolling  sea  or  the  rushing  river,  where  for  the  a  p^unge.^^ 
moment  the  waves  close  over  the  bather's  head,  and 
he  emerges  again  as  from  a  momentary  grave ;  or  it  was  the 

♦To  "dub"  a  knight  is  said  to  be  taken  from  "the  dip,"  "doob  "  in  the 
bath.    Evelyn  saw  the  Knights  in  their  baths  (Diary,  April  19, 1661). 


8  VHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

shock  of  a  shower-batli — the  rush  of  water  passed  over  the 
whole  person  from  capacious  vessels,  so  as  to  wrap  the  recipient 
as  within  the  veil  of  a  splashing  cataract.*  This  was  the  part 
of  the  ceremony  on  which  the  Apostles  laid  so  much  stress.  It 
seemed  to  them  like  a  burial  of  the  old  former  self  and  the 
rising  up  again  of  the  new  self.  So  St.  Paul  compared  it  to 
the  Israelites  passing  through  the  roaring  waves  of  the  Red 
Sea,  and  St.  Peter  to  the  passing  through  the  deep  waters  of 
the  flood.  "  We  are  buried,"  said  St.  Paul,  "  with  Christ  by 
baptism  at  his  death ;  that,  like  as  Christ  was  raised,  thus  we 
also  should  walk  in  the  newness  of  life."  j-  Baptism,  as  the 
entrance  into  the  Christian  society,  was  a  complete  change 
from  the  old  superstitions  or  restrictions  of  Judaism  to  the 
freedom  and  confidence  of  the  Gospel ;  from  the  idolatries  and 
profligacies  of  the  old  heathen  world  to  the  light  and  purity  of 
Christianity.  It  was  a  change  effected  only  by  the  same  effort 
and  struggle  as  that  with  which  a  strong  swimmer  or  an  ad- 
venturous diver  throws  himself  into  the  stream  and  struggles 
with  the  waves,  and  comes  up  with  increased  energy  out  of 
the  depths  of  the  dark  abyss. 

This,  too,  is  a  lesson  taught  by  Baptism  which  still  lives, 
although  the  essence  of  the  material  form  is  gone.  There  is 
now  no  disappearance  as  in  a  watery  grave.  There  is  now  no 
conscious  and  deliberate  choice  made  by  the  eager  convert  at 
the  cost  of  cruel  partings  from  friends,  perhaps  of  a  painful 
death.  It  is  but  the  few  drops  sprinkled,  a  ceremony  under- 
taken long  before  or  long  after  the  adoption  of  Christianity  has 
occurred.  But  the  thing  signified  by  the  ancient  form  still 
keeps  before  us  that  which  Christians  were  intended  to  be. 
This  is  why  it  was  connected  both  in  name  and  in  substance 
with  "  Conversion."  In  the  early  Church  the  careful  dis- 
tinction which  later  times  have  made  between  Baptism,  Regen- 
eration, Conversion,  and  Repentance  did  not  exist.  They  all 
meant  the  same  thing.  In  the  Apostolic  age  they  were,  as  we 
have  seen,  absolutc^ly  combined  with  Baptism.  There  was 
then  no  waiting  till  Easter  or  Pentecost  for  the  great  reservoir 
when  the  catechumens  met  the  Bishop — the  river,  the  wayside 

*  See  Dr.  Smith's  History  of  Christian  Antiquities,  vol.  i.  p.  169. 
+  Rom.  vi.  4;  1  Cor.  x.  2;  1  iPet.  iii,  aO,  SI. 


BAPTISM.  § 

well  were  taken  the  moment  the  convert  was  disposed  to  turn, 
as  we  say,  the  new  leaf  in  his  life.  And  even  afterwards,  in 
the  second  century,  Regeneration  [TtaXiyyeveffia),  which 
gradually  was  taken  to  be  the  equivalent  of  Baptism,  was,  in 
the  first  instance,  the  equivalent  of  Repentance  and  Conver- 
sion.* A  long  and  tedious  controversy  about  thirty  years 
ago  took  place  on  the  supposed  distinction  between  these 
i  words.  Such  a  controversy  would  have  been  unintelligible  to 
Justin  Martyr  or  Clement  of  Alexandria. j-  But  the  common 
idea  which  the  words  represent  is  still  as  nececsary,  and  has 
played  as  great  a  part  in  the  later  history  of  the  Church  as  it 
did  at  the  beginning.^  Conversion  is  the  turning  round  from 
a  wrong  to  a  right  direction ;  Repentance  [)UTa^^oia)  is  a 
change  of  thoughts  and  feelings  which  is  always  going  on  in 
any  one  who  reforms  himself  at  all ;  Regeneration  is  the  growth 


*  As  a  general  rule,  in  the  writings  of  the  later  Fathers,  there  is  no  doubt 
that  the  word  which  we  translate  "  Regeneration  "  is  used  exclusively  for 
Baptism.  But  it  is  equally  certain  that  in  the  earlier  Fathers  it  is  used  for 
Repentance, or,  as  we  should  now  say,  Conversion.  See  Clem.  Rom.  i.  9;  Jus- 
tin. Dial,  in  Tryph.  p.  231,  B.  D. ;  Clemens  Alex,  (apud  Eus.  H.  E.  iii.  23),  Strom. 
lib.  ii.  8,  42.5.  A. 

t  The  Gorliam  litigation  of  18.50,  which  turned  on  the  necessity  of  "  an  un- 
conditional regeneration  in  Baptism,"  has  now  drifted  into  the  limbo  of  ex- 
tinct controversies.  The  epigram  of  Sir  George  Rose  and  the  judgment  of 
Bishop  Tliirlwall  had  indeed  sealed  its  doom  at  the  time.  I  quote  a  sentence 
from  each: 

"  Bishop  and  vicar. 
Why  do  you  bicker 

Each  with  the  other, 
When  both  are  right, 
Or  each  is  quite 
As  wrong  as  the  other?" 

The  Gorham  Judgment  Versified. 

"In  no  part  of  the  controversy  was  it  stated  in  what  sense  the  word  '  Re- 
generation '  was  understood  by  either  party.  In  no  other  instance  has  there 
been  so  great  a  disproportion  between  the  intrinsic  moment  of  the  fact  and 
the  excitement  which  it  has  occasioned." — Tliirlwall,  Remains,  i.  1.53, 158. 

But  it  was  not  till  some  years  afterwards  that  the  wit  of  the  lawyer  and 
judgment  of  the  Bishop  were  confirmed  from  an  unexpected  quarter.  Dr. 
Mozley.  afterwards  Regius  Professor  of  Divinity  at  Oxford,  had  in  his  calmer 
moments  reviewed  the  whole  question,  and  decided  that  the  decision  of  the 
Privy  Council,  so  vehemently  attacked  at  the  time  by  his  school  as  subversive 
of  the  Christian  faith,  was  right,  and  that  its  opponents  had  wasted  tlieir  fears 
and  their  indignation  in  behalf  of  a  phantom.  See  his  two  works  on  The 
Aut/ustinian  Doctrine  of  Predestination,  1855,  and  on  Baptismal  Regenera- 
tion, 18.56. 

t  It  has  been  often  remarked  that  examples  of  such  total  renewal  of  char- 
acter are  very  rare  outside  of  the  influence  of  Christianity.  But  (not  to  speak 
of  Mohammedan  and  Indian  instances)  a  striking  instance,  corresponding 
almost  entirely  to  the  conversions  in  Christendom,  has  been  pointed  out— that 
of  Polemo,  under  the  teaching  of  Xenocrates.  See  Horace,  Satires,  II.  iii. 
254,  with  the  annotations  from  Valerius  Maxlmus  and  Diogenes  Laertius. 


10  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

of  a  second  character,  always  recurring,  tbough  at  times  with 
a  more  sudden  shock.  "With  us  these  changes  are  brought 
about  by  a  thousand  different  methods ;  education,  affliction, 
ilhiess,  change  of  position  in  hfe,  a  happy  marriage,  a  new  field 
of  usefulness — every  one  of  these  gives  us  some  notion  of  the 
early  Baptism  in  its  better  and  more  permanent  side,  and  in 
every  one  of  these  that  better  side  of  the  early  Baptism  may 
be  reproduced.  "We  lie  down  to  sleep,  and  we  wake  up  and 
find  ourselves  new  creatures,  with  new  hopes,  new  affections, 
new  interests,  new  aspirations.  Every  such  case  Avhich  we 
have  known,  every  such  experience  in  ourselves,  helps  us  better 
to  imderstand  what  Baptism  once  was ;  and  the  recollection  of 
that  original  Baptism  helps  us  better  to  apply  to  ourselves  the 
language  of  the  Bible  concerning  it — to  that  which  now  most 
nearly  resembles  it.  We  must,  if  we  Avould  act  in  the  spirit  of 
the  Apostolic  Baptism,  be  not  once  only,  but  "  continually," 
"  mortifying,"  that  is,  killing,  drowning,  burning  out  our  selfish 
affections  and  narrow  prejudices;  and  not  once  only,  but 
"  daily,"  proceeding, — daily  renewed  and  born  again  in  all  vir- 
tue and  godliness  of  living,  all  strength  and  uprightness  of 
character. 

3.  And  this  brings  us  to  the  third  characteristic  of  the  early 
Baptism.  "Baptism,"  says  the  English  Baptismal  Service, 
"  doth  represent  unto  us  our  Christian  profession,  which  is  to 
follow  Christ  and  to  be  made  like  unto  him."  This  is  the 
element  added  to  the  Baptism  of  John.  In  the  first  two 
characteristics  of  Baptism  which  we  have  mentioned,  water  as 
signifying  cleanliness  of  body  and  mind,  and  immersion  as 
indicating  the  plunge  into  a  new  life,  the  Baptism  of  John  and 
the  Baptism  of  Christ  are  identical.  John's  Baptism,  no  less 
than  Christian  Baptism,  was  the  Baptism  of  purity,  of  regen- 
eration, "  of  remission  of  sins."  *  But  Christ  added  yet  this 
further;  that  the  new  atmosphere  into  which  they  rose 
was  to  be  the  atmosphere  of  the  Spirit  of  Christ.  This 
was  exjiressed  to  the  Christians  of  the  first  centuries  in  two 
ways :  First,  when  they  came  up  from  the  waters,  naked  and 
shivering,  from  the  cold  plunge  into  the  bath  or  river,  they 
were  wrapped  round  in  a  white  robe,  and  this  suggested  the 

*  Luke  iii.  3. 


BAPTISM.  11 

thought  that  the  recipients  of  Baptism  put  on — that  is,  were 
clothed,  wrapped,  enveloped  in — the  fine  linen,  white  and 
clean,  which  is  the  goodness  and  righteousness  of  Christ  and 
of  His  saints,  not  by  any  fictitious  transfer,  but  in  deed  and  in 
truth;  His  character.  His  grace.  His  mercy.  His  truthfulness 
were  to  be  the  clothing,  the  uniform,  the  badge,  the  armor  of 
those  who  by  this  act  enrolled  themselves  in  His  service.  And, 
secondly,  this  was  what  made  Baptism  especially  a  "  iSacrament." 
It  is  common  now  to  speak  of  the  Eucharist  as  "  the  Sacra- 
ment." But  in  the  early  ages  it  was  rather  Baptism  which 
was  the  special  Sacrament  (^sacramentum),  the  oath,  the  pledge 
in  which,  as  the  soldiers  enlisting  in  the  Roman  army  swore  a 
great  oath  on  the  sacred  eagles  of  allegiance  to  the  Emperor, 
so  converts  bound  themselves  by  a  great  oath  to  follow  their 
Divine  Commander  wherever  He  led  them.  And  this  was  fur- 
ther impressed  upon  them  by  the  name  in  which  they  were 
baptized.  It  Avas,  if  not  always,  yet  whenever  we  hear  of  its 
use  in  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  in  the  name  of  the  "  Lord 
Jesus.''''  *  Doubtless  the  more  comprehensive  form  in  which 
Baptism  is  now  everywhere  administered  in  the  threefold 
name  of  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy  Spirit,  soon  super- 
seded the  simpler  form  of  that  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
only.  But  the  earlier  use  points  out  clearly  how,  along  with 
the  all-embracing  love  of  the  Universal  Father,  and  the  all- 
penetrating  presence  of  the  Eternal  Spirit,  the  historical,  per- 
sonal, gracnous,  endearing  form  of  the  Founder  of  the  Faith 
waf,  the  first  and  leading  thought  that  was  planted  in  the  mind 
of  the  early  Christians  as  they  rose  out  of  the  font  of  their 
first  immersion  to  enter  on  their  new  and  difficult  course. 

It  has  thus  far  been  intended  to  show  what  is  the  essential 
meaning  of  the  early  Baptism  which  has  endured  through  all 
its  changes.  And  it  is  in  full  accordance  with  the  primitive 
records  of  Christianity  to  dwell  on  these  essentials  as  distinct 
from  its  forms.  It  is  not  by  the  water,  much  or  little,  but  by 
the  Spirit  (as  it  is  expressed  in  the  Fourth  Gospel), f  that  the 

*  Acts  ii.  38,  viii.  16,  x.  48.  The  form  of  the  name  of  the  Father,  Son,  and 
Holy  Ghost,  though  found  in  early  times,  was  not  universal.  Cyprian  fli-st 
and  Pope  Nicholas  I.  afterwards  acknowIedg:ed  the  validity  of  Baptism  "In 
the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus."    See  Dr.  Smith's  Dictionary  of  Christian  Anti- 


t  John  iii 


Dl.  1.  p. 
ii.  5-8. 


Ig  CH'EISTIAN  INSTITUTION.^. 

second  birth  of  man  is  wrought  in  the  heart.  It  is  not  hy  the 
putting  away  the  natural  filth  of  the  outward  flesh,*  but  (as  it 
is  expressed  in  the  First  Epistle  of  St.  Peter)  by  the  inward 
questioning  of  a  good  conscience  towards  God,  that  Baptism 
can  ever  save  any  one.  It  was  not  by  the  act  of  baptizing, 
but  by  proclaiming  the  glad  tidings  of  the  kingdom  of  God, 
that  the  world  was  converted.  Jesus,  f  we  are  told,  never 
baptized,  and  Paul  thanked  God  that,  with  a  few  insignificant 
exceptions,  be  baptized  none  of  the  Corinthians. 

II.  But  there  is  the  further  instruction  to  be  derived  from  a 
nearer  view  of  the  changes  through  which  the  forms  passed. 

1.  First  there  are  the  curious  notions  which  have  congre- 
gated round  the  ceremony,  and  which  have  almost  entirely 
.     .    ,       passed  away.     There  was  the  belief  in  early  aces 

AnciGnt         J.  »/  */        ~ 

opinion  on  that  it  was  like  a  magical  charm,  which  acted  on  the 
Baptism,  persons  who  received  it,  without  any  consent  or 
intention  either  of  administrator  or  recipient,  as  in  the  case  of 
children  or  actors  performing  the  rite  with  no  serious  inten- 
tion. There  was  also  the  belief  that  it  wiped  away  all  sins, 
however  long  thej'  had  been  accumulating,  and  however  late  it 
was  administered.  This  is  illustrated  by  the  striking  instance 
of  the  postponement  of  the  baptism  of  the  first  Chi'istian 
Emperor  Constantine,  who  had  presided  at  the  Council  of 
Nicfiea,  preached  in  churches,  directed  tlie  wliole  religion  of  the 
empire,  and  yet  was  all  the  while  unbaptized  till  the  moment 
of  his  death,  when,  in  the  last  hours  of  his  mortal  illness,  the 
ceremony  was  perfonned  by  Eusebius  of  Nicomedia.  There 
was  also  the  belief,  in  the  third  and  fourth  centuries  almost  as 
firmly  fixed  as  the  corresponding  belief  in  regard  to  the  Eucha- 
rist, that  the  water  was  changed  into  the  blood  of  Christ. 

There  was  the  yet  more  strange  persuasion  that  no  one 
could  be  saved  unless  he  had  passed  through  the  iinmei'sion  of 
Baptism.  It  was  not  the  effect  of  divine  grace  upon  the  soul, 
but  of  the  actual  water  upon  the  body,  on  which  those  ancient 
Baptists  built  their  hopes  of  immortality.  If  only  the  person 
of  a  human  being  be  wrapt  in  the  purifying  element,  he  was 
thought  to  be  redeemed   from  the  uncleaimess  of  his  birth. 


»  See  Professor  Plumptre's  Notes  on  1  Peter  iii.  21. 
t  Johniv.  2;  1  Cor.  1.  14-16. 


BAPTISM.  IB 

The  boy  Athanasius  throwing  water  in  jest  over  his  playmate 
on  the  sea-shore  performed,  as  it  was  believed,  a  valid  baptism  ; 
the  Apostles  in  the  spray  of  the  storm  on  the  sea  of  Galilee, 
the  penitent  thief  in  the  water  that  rushed  from  the  wound  of 
the  Crucified,  were  imagined  to  have  received  the  baptism 
which  had  else  been  withheld  from  them.  And  this  "  washing 
of  water"  was  now  deemed  absolutely  necessary  for  salvation. 
No  human  being  could  pass  into  the  presence  of  God  hereafter 
unless  he  had  passed  through  the  waters  of  baptism  here. 
"  This,"  says  Vossius,  "  is  the  judgment  of  all  antiquity,  that 
they  perish  everlastingly  wdio  will  not  be  baptized,  Avhen  they 
may."  From  this  belief  followed  gradually,  but  surely,  the 
conclusion  that  the  natural  end  not  only  of  all  heathens,  but 
of  all  the  patriarchs  and  saints  of  the  Old  Testament,  was  in 
the  realms  of  perdition.  And,  further,  the  Pelagian  contro- 
versy drew  out  the  mournful  doctrine,  that  infants,  dying 
before  baptism,  were  excluded  from  the  Divine  presence — the 
doctrine  when  expressed  in  its  darkest  form,  that  they  were 
consigned  to  everlasting  fire.  At  the  close  of  the  fifth  century 
this  belief  had  become  universal,  chiefly  through  the  means  of 
Augustine.  It  was  the  turning-point  of  his  contest  with 
Pelagius.  It  was  the  dogma  from  which  nothing  could  induce 
him  to  part.  It  was  this  which  he  meant  by  insisting  on 
"  the  remission  of  original  sin  in  infant  baptism."  In  his 
earlier  years  he  had  doubted  whether,  possibly,  he  might  not 
leave  it  an  open  question  ;  but  in  his  full  age,  "  God  forbid," 
said  he,  "  that  I  should  leave  the  matter  so."  The  extremest 
case  of  a  child  dying  beyond  the  reach  of  baptism  is  put  to 
him,  and  he  decides  against  it.  In  the  Fifth  Council  of  Car- 
thage, the  milder  view  is  mentioned  of  those  who,  reposing  on 
the  gracious  promise,  "  In  my  Father's  house  are  many  man- 
sions," trusted  that  among  those  many  mansions,  there  might 
still  be  found,  even  for  those  infants  who,  by  want  of  baptism, 
were  shut  out  from  the  Divine  presence,  some  place  of  shelter. 
That  milder  view,  doubtless  under  Augustine's  influence,  was 
anathematized.  Happily,  this  dark  doctrine  Avas  never  sanc- 
tioned by  the  formal  Creeds  of  the  Church.  On  this,  as  on 
every  other  point  connected  with  the  doctrine  of  Baptism, 
they  preserved  a  silence,  whether  by  design,  indifference,  or 
accident,  we  know-  not.     But  among  the  indi\adual  Fathers 


14  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

from  the  time  of  Augustine  it  seems  impossible  to  dispute  the 
judgment  of  the  great  English  authority  on  Baptism  :  "  How 
hard  soever  this  opinion  may  seem,  it  is  the  constant  opinion 
of  the  ancients."  *  "  I  am  sorry,"  says  Bishop  Hall,  and  we 
share  his  sorrow,  "  that  so  harsh  an  opinion  should  be  graced 
with  the  name  of  a  father  so  reverend,  so  divine — whose  sen- 
tence yet  let  no  man  plead  by  halves."  All  who  profess  to  go 
by  the  opinion  of  the  ancients  and  the  teaching  of  Augustine 
must  be  prepared  to  believe  that  immersion  is  essential  to  the 
eificacy  of  baptism,  that  unbaptized  infants  must  be  lost  for- 
ever, that  baptized  infants  must  receive  the  Eucharist,  or  be 
lost  in  like  manner.  For  this,  too,  strange  as  it  may  seem, 
was  yet  a  necessary  consequence  of  the  same  materializing 
system.  "  He  who  held  it  impossible "  (we  again  use  the 
words  of  Bishop  Hall)  "  for  a  child  to  be  saved  unless  the  bap- 
tismal water  were  poured  on  his  face,  held  it  also  as  im- 
possible for  the  same  infant  unless  the  sacramental  bread  were 
received  in  his  mouth.  And,  lest  any  should  plead  differ- 
ent interpretations,  the  same  St.  Augustine  avers  this  later 
opinion  also,  touching  the  necessary  communicating  of  chil- 
dren, to  have  been  once  the  common  judgment  of  the  Church 
of  Rome."  f 

Such  were  the  doctrines  of  the  Fathers  on  Infant  Baptism, 
— doctrines  so  deeply  affecting  our  whole  conceptions  of  God 
and  of  man,  that,  in  comparison,  the  gravest  questions  of  late 
times  shrink  into  insignificance — doctrines  so  different  from  those 
professed  by  any  English,  we  may  almost  add  any  European, 
clergyman,  of  the  present  day,  that  had  the  Pope  himself  ap- 
peared before  the  Bishop  of  Hippo,  he  would  have  been  re- 
jected at  once  as  an  unbaptized  heretic. 

It  is  a  more  pleasing  task  to  trace  the  struggle  of  Christian 
goodness  and  wisdom,  by  which  the  Church  was  gradually  de- 
livered from  this  iron  yoke.  No  doctrine  has  ever  arisen  in 
the  Church  more  entirely  contrary  to  the  plainest  teaching  of 
its  original  documents.  In  the  Old  Testament,  especially  in  the 
Psalms,! — where  the  requisites  of  moral  life  are  enumerated  as 

*  Wall's  History  of  Infant  Baptism,  vol.  i.  p.  200.  In  this  work,  and  in 
Bingham's  Aniiquities,  will  be  found  most  of  the  authorities  for  the  state- 
ments in  the  text. 

t  Bishop  Hail's  Letter  to  the  Lady  Honoria  Hay. 

X  See  Psaims  xv.  xix.  xxiv.  cxiz. 


BAPTISM.  •  15 

alone  necessary  to  propitiate  the  Divine  favor, — it  is  needless 
to  say  that  Baptism  is  never  mentioned.  In  the  New  Testa- 
ment the  highest  blessings  are  pronounced  on  those  who, 
whether  children  or  adults,*  had  never  been  baptized.  Even 
in  the  Patristic  age  itself  (in  its  earlier  stage)  the  recollection 
of  the  original  freedom  of  Christianity  had  not  quite  died  out. 
Tertullian  must  have  accepted  with  hesitation,  if  he  accepted 
at  all,  the  universal  condemnation  of  unbaptized  children. 
Salvian,  who  acknowledged  freely  the  virtues  of  the  Vandal 
heretics,  must  have  scrupled  to  repudiate  the  virtues  of  the 
unbaptized  heathens.  No  General  or  Provincial  Council,  ex- 
cept the  Fifth  of  Carthage,  ventured  to  affirm  any  doctrine  on 
the  subject.  The  exception  in  behalf  of  martyrs  left  an  open- 
ing, at  least  in  principle,  which  would  by  logical  consequence 
admit  other  exceptions,  of  which  the  Fathers  never  dreamed. 
The  saints  of  the  Old  Testament  were  believed  to  have  been 
rescued  from  their  long  prison-house  by  the  hypothesis  of  a 
liberation  effected  for  them  through  the  Descent  into  Hell. 
But  these  were  contradictions  and  exceptions  to  the  prevailing 
doctrine ;  and  the  gloomy  period  which  immediately  followed 
"the  death  of  Augustine,  fraught  as  it  was  with  every  imagin- 
able horror  of  a  falling  empire,  was  not  likely  to  soften  the 
harsh  creed  which  he  had  bequeathed  to  it ;  and  the  chains 
which  the  "  durus  pater  infantum  "  had  thrown  round  the  souls 
of  children  were  riveted  by  Gregory  the  Great.  At  last,  how- 
ever, with  the  new  birth  of  the  European  nations  the  humanity 
of  Christendom  revived.  One  by  one  the  chief  strongholds  of 
the  ancient  belief  yielded  to  the  purer  and  loftier  instincts  (to 
use  no  higher  name)  which  guided  the  Christian  Church  in  its 
onward  progress,  dawning  more  and  more  unto  the  perfect  day. 
First  disappeared  the  necessity  of  immersion.  Then,  to  the 
Master  of  the  Sentences  we  owe  the  decisive  change  of  doc- 
trine which  delivered  the  souls  of  infants  from  the  everlasting 
fire  to  which  they  had  been  handed  over  by  Augustine  and 
Fulgentius,  and  placed  them,  with  the  heroes  of  the  heathen 
world,  in  that  mild  Limbo  or  Elysium  which  is  so  vivqdly  de- 
scribed in  the  pages  of  Dante.     Next  fell  the  practice  of  ad- 


*  Matt.  V.  1-11;  vii.  24,  25,  viii.  10,  11,  xii.  50,  xviii.  3-5,  xxv.  34-39;  Mark  x.  14; 
Luke  XV.  32;  John  xiv.  23;  Acts  x.  4,  44. 


16  CIERISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

ministermg  to  them  the  Eucharistic  elements.  Last  of  all,  iii 
the  fourteenth  century,  the  strong  though  silent  protest  against 
the  magical  theory  of  Baptism  itself  was  effected  in  the  post- 
ponement of  the  rite  of  Confirmation,  which,  down  to  that 
time,  had  been  regarded  as  an  essential  part  of  Baptism,  and, 
as  such,  was  administered  simultaneously  with  it.  An  inef- 
fectual stand  was  made  in  behalf  of  the  receding  doctrine  of 
Augustine  by  Gregory  of  Rimini,  known  amongst  his  "  seraphic  " 
and  "angelic"  colleagues  by  the  unenviable  title  of  "Tormentor 
Infantum ;"  and  some  of  the  severer  Reformers,  both  in  Eng- 
land and  Germany,  for  a  few  years  clung  to  the  sterner  view. 
But  the  victory  was  really  won;  and  the  Council  of  Trent,  no 
less  than  the  Confession  of  Augsburg  and  the  Thirty-nine  Ar- 
ticles, has  virtually  abandoned  the  position  by  which  Popes 
and  Fathers  once  maintained  the  absolute,  unconditional,  mys- 
tical efficacy  of  sacramental  elements  on  the  body  and  soul  of 
the  unconscious  infant.  The  Eastern  Church,  indeed,  with  its 
usual  tenacity  of  ancient  forms,  still  immerses,  still  communi- 
cates, and  still  confirms  its  infant  members.  But  in  the  West- 
ern Church  the  Christian  religion  has  taken  its  more  natural 
course ;  and  in  the  boldness  which  substituted  a  few  drops  of 
water  for  the  ancient  bath,  which  pronounced  a  charitable 
judgment  on  the  innocent  babes  who  die  without  the  sacra- 
ments, which  restored  to  the  Eucharist  something  of  its  origi- 
nal intention,  and  gave  to  Confirmation  a  meaning  of  its  own, 
by  deferring  both  these  solemn  rites  to  years  of  discretion,  we 
have  at  once  the  best  proof  of  the  total  and  necessary  diver- 
gence of  modern  from  ancient  doctrine,  and  the  best  guarantee 
that  surely,  though  slowly,  the  true  wisdom  of  Christianity  will 
be  justified  of  all  her  children. 

"The  constant  opinion  of  the, ancients"  in  favor  of  the  un- 
conditional efficacy  and  necessity  of  Baptism  has  been  happily 
exchanged  for  a  constant  opinion  of  the  moderns,  which  has 
almost,  if  not  entirely,  spread  through  Christendom.  No  doubt 
traces  of  the  old  opinion  may  occasionally  be  found.  It  is 
said  that  a  Roman  peasant,  on  receiving  a  remonstrance  fur 
spinning  a  cockchafer,  replied,  with  a  complete  assurance  of 
conviction,  "There  is  no  harm  in  doing  it.  Non  e  cosa  battez- 
zata" — "It  is  not  baptized  stuff."  "They  are  not  baptized 
things"  is  the  reply  which  many  a  scholastic  divine  would  have 


BAPTISM.  17 

made  to  the  complaint  that  Socrates  and  Marcus  Aurelius  were 
exchided  from  Paradise.  The  French  peasants,  we  are  told, 
regard  their  children  before  baptism  simply  as  animals.*  Even 
in  the  English  Church  we  sometimes  hear  a  horror  expressed 
by  some  excellent  clergymen  at  using  any  religious  words  over 
the  graves  of  unbaptized  persons.  The  rubric  which,  in  the 
disastrous  epoch  of  1662,  was  for  the  first  time  introduced  into 
the  English  Prayer  Book,  forbidding  the  performance  of  its 
burial  service  over  the  unbaptized,  which  till  then  had  been 
permitted,  still,  through  the  influence  of  the  Southern  Convo- 
cation, maintains  its  place.  But  these  are  like  the  ghosts  of 
former  beliefs — lingering  in  dens  and  caves  of  the  Church,  vis- 
iting here  and  there  their  ancient  haunts,  but  almost  everywhere 
receding,  if  slowly  yet  inevitably,  from  the  light  of  day. 

Such  changes  on  such  a  momentous  subject  are  amongst  the 
most  encouraging  lessons  of  ecclesiastical  history.  They  show 
how  variable  and  contradictory,  and  therefore  how  capable  of 
improvement,  has  been  the  theology  of  the  Catholic  as  well  as 
of  the  Protestant  Churches,  and  how  pregnant,  therefore,  are 
the  hopes  for  the  future  of  both. 

2.  We  now  pass  to  the  changes  in  the  form  itself.  For  the 
first  thirteen  centuries  the  almost  universal  practice  of  Baptism 
was  that  of  which  we  read  in  the  New  Testament,  immersion 
and  which  is  the  very  meaning  of  the  word  "  bap-  foj?gp"^^ 
tize,"  f — that  those  who  were  baptized  were  plunged.  Hug. 
submerged,  immersed  into  the  water.  That  practice  is  still,  as 
we  have  seen,  continued  in  Eastern  Churches.  In  the  Western 
Church  it  still  lingers  amongst  Roman  Catholics  in  the  solitary 
instance  of  the  cathedral  of  Milan;  amongst  Protestants  in  the 
numerous  sect  of  the  Baptists.  It  lasted  long  into  the  Middle 
Ages.  Even  the  Icelanders,  who  at  first  shrank  from  the 
water  of  their  freezing  lakes,  were  i-econciled  when  they  found 
that  they  could  use  the  warm  water  of  the  Geysers.  And  the 
cold  climate  of  Russia  has  not  been  found  an  obstacle  to  its 
continuance  throughout  that  vast  empire.  Even  in  the  Church 
of  England  it  is  still  observed  in  theory.  The  rubric  in  the 
Public  Baptism   for  Infants  enjoins  that,  unless  for   special 


*  Round  my  House,  by  P.  G.  Hamerton,  pp.  254,  203. 
t  It  is  the  meaning  of  the  v\ord  taufcn  ("  dip  "). 


18  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

causes,  they  are  to  be  dipped,  not  sprinkled.  Edward  the 
Sixth  and  Elizabeth  were  both  immersed.  But  since  the  be- 
ginning of  the  seventeenth  century,  the  practice  has  become 
exceedingly  rare.  With  the  few  exceptions  just  mentioned, 
the  whole  of  the  Western  Churches  have  now  substituted  for 
the  ancient  bath  the  ceremony  of  letting  fall  a  few  drops  of  water 
on  the  face.  The  reason  of  the  change  is  obvious.  The  prac- 
tice of  immersion,  though  peculiarly  suitable  to  the  Southern 
and  Eastern  countries  for  which  it  was  designed,  was  not  found 
seasonable  in  the  countries  of  the  North  and  West.  Not  by 
any  decree  of  Council  or  Parliament,  but  by  the  general  senti- 
ment of  Christian  liberty,  this  remarkable  change  was  effected. 
Beginning  in  the  thirteenth  century,  it  has  gradually  driven  the 
ancient  Catholic  usage  out  of  the  whole  of  Europe.  There  is 
no  one  who  would  now  wish  to  go  back  to  the  old  practice. 
It  followed,  no  doubt,  the  example  of  the  Apostles  and  of 
their  Master.  It  has  the  sanction  of  tlie  venerable  Churches  of 
the  early  ages,  and  of  the  sacred  countries  of  the  East.  Baptism 
by  sprinkling  was  rejected  by  the  whole  ancient  Church 
(except  in  the  rare  case  of  death-beds  or  extreme  necessity)  as 
no  baptism  at  all.  Almost  the  first  exception  was  the  heretic 
Novatian.  It  still  has  the  sanction  of  the  powerful  religious 
community  which  numbers  amongst  its  members  such  noble 
characters  as  John  Bunyan,  Robert  Hall,  and  Havelock.  In  a 
version  of  the  Bible  which  the  Baptist  Church  has  compiled 
for  its  own  use  in  America,  where  it  excels  in  numbers  all  but 
the  Methodists,  it  is  thought  necessary,  and  on  philological 
grounds  it  is  quite  correct,  to  translate  "John  the  Baptist"  by 
*'  John  the  Immerser."  It  has  even  been  defended  on  sanitary 
grounds.  Sir  John  Floyer  dated  the  prevalence  of  consump- 
tion to  the  discontinuance  of  baptism  by  immersion.*  But, 
speaking  generally,  the  Christian  civilized  world  has  decided 
against  it.  It  is  a  striking  example  of  the  triumph  of  common- 
sense  and  convenience  over  the  bondage  of  form  and  custom. 
Perhaps  no  greater  change  has  ever  taken  place  in  the  outward 
form  of  Christian  ceremony  with  such  general  agreement.  It 
is  a  larger  change  even  than  that  which  the  Roman  Catholic 
Church  has  made  in  administering  the  sacrament  of  the  Lord's 

*  Archaeological  Journal,  No.  113,  p.  77. 


BAPTISM.  19 

Supper  in  the  bread  without  the  wine.  For  whilst  that  was  a 
change  which  did  not  affect  the  thing  that  was  signified,  the 
change  from  immersion  to  sprinkhng  has  set  aside  the  most  of 
tlie  Apostolic  expressions  regarding  Baptism,  and  has  altered 
the  very  meaning  of  the  word.  Bat  whereas  the  withholding 
of  the  cup  produced  the  long  and  sanguinary  war  of  Bohemia, 
and  has  been  one  of  the  standing  grievances  of  Protestants 
against  the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  the  withdrawal  of  the 
ancient  rite  of  immersion,  decided  by  the  usage  of  the  whole 
ancient  Church  to  be  essential  to  the  sacrament  of  Baptism, 
has  been,  with  the  exception  of  the  insurrection  of  the  Ana- 
baptists of  Miinster,  conceded  almost  without  a  struggle. 
The  whole  transaction  shows  the  wisdom  of  refraining 
from  the  enforcement  of  the  customs  of  other  regions  and 
other  climates  on  unwilling  recipients.  It  shows  how  the 
spirit  which  lives  and  moves  in  human  society  can  override 
even  the  most  sacred  ordinances.  It  remains  an  instructive 
example  of  the  facility  and  silence  with  which,  in  matters  of 
form,  even  the  widest  changes  can  be  effected  without  any 
serious  loss  to  Christian  truth,  and  with  great  advantage  to 
Christian  solemnity  and  edification.  The  substitution  of  sprink- 
ling for  immersion  must  to  many  at  the  time,  as  to  the  Bap- 
tists* now,  have  seemed  the  greatest  and  most  dangerous  inno- 
vation. Now,  by  most  Catholics  and  by  most  Protestants,  it  is 
regarded  almost  as  a  second  nature. 

3.  Another  change  is  not  so  complete,  but  is  perhaps  more 
important.     In  the  Apostolic  age,  and  in  the  three  centuries 
which  followed,  it  is  evident  that,  as  a  general  rule,  those  who 
came  to  baptism  came  in  full  age,  of  their  own  deliberate  choice. 
We  find  a  few  cases  of  the  baptism  of  children;  in  Q^ange 
the  third  century  we  find  one  case  of  the  baptism  of  from  adult 
infants.     Even  amongst  Christian    households   the  kifam  Ba^p- 
instances  of  Chrysostom,  Gregory  Nazianzen,  Basil,  tism. 
Ephrem   of  Edessa,  Augustine,  Ambrose,  are  decisive  proofs 
that  it  was  not  only  not  obligatory  but  not  usual.     All  these 
distinguished  personages  had  Christian  parents,  and  yet  were 
not  baptized  till  they  reached  maturity.     The  old  liturgical 

*  How  dangerous  this  change  is  regarded  by  the  excellent  community  of 
Baptists  has  been  strongly  brought  out  by  the  horror  which  this  Essay' has 
occasioned  amongst  them  since  it  was  originally  published. 


20  CHBISTIAN  JJSSTITUTIONS. 

service  of  Baptism  was  framed  for  full-grown  converts,  and  is 
only  by  considerable  adaptation  applied  to  the  case  of  infants. 
Gradually  the  practice  of  baptizing  infants  spread,  and  after 
the  fifth  century  the  whole  Christian  world,  East  and  West, 
Catholic  and  Protestant,  Episcopal  and  Presbyterian  (with  the 
single  exception  of  the  sect  of  the  Baptists  before  mentioned), 
have  adopted  it.  "Whereas,  in  the  early  ages,  Adult  Baptism 
was  the  rule,  and  Infant  Baptism  the  exception,  in  later  times 
Infant  Baptism*  is  the  rule,  and  Adult  Baptism  the  excep- 
tion. 

What  is  the  justification  of  this  almost  universal  departure 
from  the  primitive  usage  ?  There  may  have  been  many  reasons, 
some  bad,  some  good.  One,  no  doubt,  was  the  superstitious 
feeling  already  mentioned  which  regarded  Baptism  as  a  charm, 
indispensable  to  salvation,  and  which  insisted  on  imparting  it 
to  every  human  being  who  could  be  touched  with  water,  how- 
ever unconscious.  Hence  the  eagerness  with  which  Roman 
Catholic  missionaries,  like  St.  Francis  Xavier,  have  made  it  the 
chief  glory  of  their  mission  to  baptize  heathen  populations 
wholesale,  in  utter  disregard  of  the  primitive  or  Protestant 
practice  of  long  previous  preparation,  j-  Hence  the  capture  of 
children  for  baptism  without  the  consent  of  their  j^arcnts,  as  in 
the  celebrated  case  of  the  Jewish  boy  Mortara.  Hence  the 
curious  decision  of  the  Sorbonne  quoted  in  "Tristram  Shandy." 
Hence  in  the  early  centuries,  and  still  in  the  Eastern  Churches, 
coextensive  with  Infant  Baptism,  the  practice  of  Infant  Com- 
munion, both  justified  on  the  same  grounds,  and  both  based 
on  the  mechanical  application  of  Biblical  texts  to  cases  which 
by  their  very  nature  were  not  contemplated  in  the  Apostolic 
age. 

But  there  is  a  better  side  to  the  growth  of  this  practice 
which,  even  if  it  did  not  mingle  in  Its  origin,  is  at  least 
the  cause  of  its  continuance.  It  lay  deep  in  early  Christian 
feeling  that  the  fact  of  belonging  to  a  Christian  household 
consecrated  every  member  of  it.     Whetlier  baptized  or  not, 


*  In  the  Church  of  England  there  was  no  oflRce  for  Adult  Baptism  in  the 
Prayer  Book  before  lCG-2.  and  that  which  was  then  added  is  evidently  intended 
for  tlie  baptism  of  heatlien  tribes  collectively. 

+  See  a  powerful  descrii)tion  of  this  mone  of  baptism  in  Lord  Elgin's  Lt/d 
and  Letters,  ed.  by  Theodore  Walroud,  p-.  338. 


BAPTISM.  21 

the  Apostle*  urged  that,  because  the  parents  were  holy,  there- 
fore the  children  were  holy.  They  were  not  to  be  treated  as 
outcasts  ;  they  were  not  to  be  treated  as  heathens ;  they  were 
to  be  recognized  as  part  of  the  chosen  people.  This  passage, 
whilst  it  is  conclusive  against  the  practice  of  Infant  Baptism 
in  the  Apostolic  age,  is  a  recognition  of  the  legitimate  reason 
and  permanent  principle  on  which  it  is  founded.  It  is  the 
acknowledgment  of  the  Christian  saintliness  and  union  of 
family  life.  The  goodness,  the  holiness,  the  purity  of  a 
Christian  fireside,  of  a  Christian  marriage,  of  a  good  death- 
bed, extends  to  all  those  who  come  within  its  reach.  As  we 
are  all  drawn  nearer  to  each  other  by  the  natural  bonds  of 
affection,  so  we  are  drawn  still  nearer  when  these  bonds  of 
affection  are  cemented  by  Christianitj^  Every  gathering,  there- 
fore, for  the  christening  of  a  little  child  is  truly  a  family 
gathering.  It  teaches  us  how  closely  we  are  members  one  of 
another.  It  teaches  parents  how  deeply  responsible  they  are 
for  the  growth  of  that  little  creature  throughout  its  future 
education.  It  teaches  brothers  and  sisters  how  by  them  is 
formed  the  atmosphere,  good  or  bad,  in  which  the  soul  of  their 
little  new-born  brother  or  sister  is  trained  to  good  or  to  evil. 
It  teaches  us  the  value  of  the  purity  of  those  domestic  rela- 
tions in  which  from  childhood  to  old  age  all  our  best  thoughts 
are  fostered  and  encouraged.  It  also  surmounts  and  avoids 
the  difficulty  which  encompasses  Adult  Baptism  in  any  coun- 
try or  society  already  impregnated  with  Christian  influences. 
If  the  New  Testament  has  no  example  of  Infant  Baptism, 
neither  has  it  any  example  of  adult  Christian  Baptism ;  that 
is,  of  the  baptism  of  those  who  had  been  already  born  and 
bred  Christians.  The  artificial  formality  of  a  Baptismal  Ser- 
vice for  those  who  in  our  time  have  grown  up  as  Christians 
is  happily  precluded  by  the  administration  of  the  rite  at  the 
commencement  of  the  natural  life. 

But  there  is  a  further  reason  to  be  found  in  the  character 
of  children.  This  is  contained  in  the  Gospel  which  is  read  in 
the  Baptismal  Service  for  infants  throughout  the  Western 
Church.j      In  the  early  ages  there  probably  were  those  who 

*  1  Cor.  vii.  14. 

t  In  tlie  Eng-lish  Church  it  is  Mark  x.  13-16;  in  the  Roman  Clmreh  it  is  Matt, 
xi.x.  13-1.").  But  in  the  Eastern  Church  tlie  pas.sages  are  still  those  that  apply 
to  Adult  Baptism,  Rom.  vi.  3-12;  Matt,  xxviii.  lt>-20. 


22  CEBISTIAN  mSTITUTIOFS. 

doubted  wlietlier  children  could  be  regarded  worthy  to  be 
dedicated  to  God  or  to  Christ.  The  answer  is  very  simple. 
If  our  Divine  Master  did  not  think  them  unfit  to  be  taken  in 
His  arms  and  receive  His  own  gracious  blessing  when  He  was 
actually  on  earth  in  bodily  presence,  we  need  not  fear  to  ask 
His  blessing  upon  them  now. 

Infant  Baptism  is  thus  a  recognition  of  the'  good  which 
there  is  in  every  human  soul.  It  declares  that  in  every  child 
of  Adam,  whilst  there  is  much  evil,  there  is  more  good ; 
whilst  there  is  much  which  needs  to  be  purified  and  elevated, 
there  is  much  also  which  in  itself  shows  a  capacity  for  purity 
and  virtue.  In  those  httle  children  of  Galilee,  all  unbaptized  as 
they  were,  not  yet  even  within  the  reach  of  a  Christian  family, 
Jesus  Christ  saw  the  likeness  of  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven ; 
merely  because  they  were  little  children,  merely  because  they 
were  innocent  human  beings,  He  saw  in  them  the  objects,  not 
of  divine  malediction,  but  of  divine  benediction.  Lord  Pal- 
merston  was  once  severely  attacked  for  having  said  "  Children 
are  born  good."  But  he,  in  fact,  only  said  what  Chrysostom 
had  said  before  him,  and  Chrysostom  said  only  what  in  the 
Gospels  had  been  already  said  of  the  natural  state  of  the  un- 
baptized Galilean  children,  "  Of  such  is  the  Kingdom  of 
Heaven."  The  substitution  of  Infant  Baptism  for  Adult  Bap- 
tism, like  the  change  from  immersion  to  sprinkling,  is  thus 
a  triumph  of  Christian  charity.  It  exemplifies  at  the  first 
beginning  of  life  that  Divine  Grace  which  hopes  all  things, 
believes  all  things,  endures  all  things.  In  each  such  little  child 
our  Saviour  saw,  and  we  may  see,  the  promise  of  a  glorious 
future.  In  those  little  hands  folded  in  unconscious  repose,  in 
those  bright  eyes  first  awakening  to  the  outer  world,  in  that 
soft  forehead  unfurrowed  by  the  ruffle  of  care  or  sin.  He  saw, 
and  we  may  see,  the  undeveloped  rudimental  instruments  of 
the  labor,  and  intelligence,  and  energy  of  a  whole  life.  And 
not  only  so — not  only  in  hope,  but  in  actual  reality,  does  the 
blessing  on  little  children,  whether  as  expressed  in  the  Gospel 
story,  or  as  implied  in  Infant  Baptism,  acknowledge  the  excel- 
lency and  the  value  of  the  childlike  soul.  Not  once  only  in 
His  life,  but  again  and  again.  He  held  them  up  to  His  disci- 
ples, as  the  best  corrective  of  the  ambitions  and  passions  of 
mankind.     He  exhorted  all  men  to  follow  their  innocency, 


BAPTISM.  23 

their  unconsciousness,  their  guilelessness,  their  truthfulness, 
their  purity.  He  saw  in  them  the  regenerating,  sanctifying 
element  of  every  family,  of  every  household,  of  every  nation. 
He  saw,  and  we  may  see,  in  their  natural,  unaffected,  simple, 
unconstrained  acts  and  words  the  best  antidote  to  the  artificial, 
fantastic,  exclusive  spirit  which  beset  the  Pharisees  of  His 
own  time,  and  must  beset  the  Pharisees,  whether  of  the 
religious  or  of  the  irreligious  world,  in  all  times.  Infant  Bap- 
tism thus  is  the  standing  testimony  to  the  truth,  the  value,  the 
eternal  significance  of  what  is  called  "  natural  religion,"  of 
what  Butler  calls  the  constitution  of  human  nature.  It  is  also 
in  a  more  special  sense  still  the  glorification  of  children.  It  is 
the  outward  expression  of  their  proper  place  in  the  Christian 
Church,  and  in  the  instincts  of  the  civilized  world.  It  teaches 
us  how  much  we  all  have  to  learn  from  children,  how  much 
to  enjoy,  how  much  to  imitate.  It  is  the  response  to  all  that 
poetry  of  children  which  in  our  days  has  been  specially  conse- 
crated by  Wordsworth  and  by  Keble.* 

When  we  see  what  a  child  is — how  helpless,  how  trusting, 
how  hopeful — the  most  hardened  of  men  must  be  softened  by 
its  presence,  and  feel  the  reverence  due  to  its  tender  con- 
science as  to  its  tender  limbs.  When  we  remember  that 
before  their  innocent  faces  the  demons  of  selfishness,  and 
impurity,  and  worldliness,  and  uncharitableness  are  put  to  flight ; 
when  we  hope  that  for  their  innocent  souls  there  is  a  place  in 
a  better  world,  though  they  are  ignorant  of  those  theological 
problems  which  rend  their  elders  asunder,  this  may  possibly 
teach  us  that  it  is  not  "  before  all  things  necessary  "  to  know 
the  differences  which  divide  the  Churches  of  the  East  or 
West,  or  the  Churches  of  the  North  or  South.  When  we 
think  of  the  sweet  repose  of  a  child  as  it  lies  in  the  arms  of 
its  nurse,  or  its  pastor  at  the  font,  it  may  recall  to  us  the  true 
attitude  of  humble  trust  and  confidence  which  most  befits  the 
human  soul,   whether  of  saint  or  philosopher.     "  Like  as  a 


*  It  is  instructive  to  observe  that  wliilst  the  sentiments  of  the  two  poets  on 
the  natural  attractiveness  of  children  are  identical,  Keble  often  endeavors  to 
force  it  into  a  connection  with  Baptism,  which  to  Wordsworth  is  almost  im- 
known.  It  is  said  that  Wordsworth,  once  reading  with  admiration  a  well- 
known  poem  in  the  Christian  IVac,  stumbled  at  the  opening  lines,  "  AVhere 
is  it  mothers  learn  their  love?"  (to  which  the  answer  is  "  the  Font.")  '•  No, 
no,"  said  the  old  poet,  "it  is  from-their  own  maternal  hearts." 


24  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

weaned  child  on  its  mother's  breast,  my  soul  is  even  as  a 
weaned  child."  When  we  meditate  on  the  imperfect  knowl- 
edge of  a  child,  it  is  the  best  picture  to  us  of  our  imper- 
fect knowledge  in  this  mortal  state.  "  I  am  but  as  a  little 
child,"  said  Sir  Isaac  Newton,  "picking  up  pebbles  on  the 
shore  of  the  vast  ocean  of  truth."  "  When  I  was  a  child — 
when  I  was  an  infant,"  said  St.  Paul,  "  I  spake  as  an  '  infant,' 
I  thought  as  an  '  infant ; '  but  when  I  became  a  man,  the 
thoughts  and  the  spirit  of  an  *  infant '  were  done  away."  This 
thought  is  the  pledge  of  a  perpetual  progress.  .The  baptism 
of  an  infant,  as  the  birth  of  an  infant,  would  be  nothing  were 
it  not  that  it  includes  within  it  the  hope  and  the  assurance  of  all 
that  is  to  follow  after.  In  those  feeble  cries,  in  those  uncon- 
scious movements,  there  is  the  first  stirring  of  the  giant  within  ; 
the  first  dawn  of  that  reasonable  soul  which  will  never  die ; 
the  first  budding  of 

The  seminal  form  which  in  the  deeps 
Of  that  Uttle  chaos  sleeps. 

The  investment  of  this  first  beginning  with  a  religious  and 
solemn  character  teaches  us  that,  as  we  must  grow  from  infancy 
to  manhood,  so  also  we  must  grow  from  the  infancy,  the  lim- 
ited perceptions,  the  narrow  faith,  the  stunted  hope,  the  imper- 
fect knowledge,  the  straitened  affections  of  the  infancy  of  this 
mortal  state  to  the  full-grown  manhood  of  our  immortal  life. 
It  suggests  that  we  have  to  pass  from  the  momentary  baptism 
of  unconscious  infants  through  the  transforming  baptism  of 
Fire  and  the  Spirit — that  is,  of  Experience  and  of  Character — 
which  is  wrought  out  through  the  many  vicissitudes  of  life  and 
the  great  change  of  death. 

4.  There  are  many  other  changes  consequent  on  the  substi- 
tution of  Infant  for  Adult  Baptism.  The  whole  institution  of 
sponsors  is  of  a  later  date.  In  the  early  centuries  the  answers 
as  a  general  rule  were  made  for  the  child  by  the  parents.  In 
later  times  the  practice  of  transferring  to  a  child  the  dramatic 
form  which  had  been  originally  used  for  grown-up  converts  led 
to  the  system  of  sponsors.  And  the  pursuance  of  the  allegory 
of  a  second  birth  was  pushed  into  the  further  detail  of  placing 
the  sponsors  in  the  place  of  parents,  and  thus  creating  a  new 
series  of  aflinitics.     In  the  Roman  and  the  Eastern  Church,  the 


BAPTISM.  25 

"gossips"*  cannot  intermarry  with  each  other;  and  in  the 
Middle  Ages  even  the  touch  of  the  baptized  infant  was  believed 
to  unite  in  this  spiritual  kindred.  The  modern  system  of 
sponsors,  whether  with  or  without  these  elaborate  inquiries, 
doubtless  has  some  social  and  moral  advantages ;  but  it  is  im- 
possible to  overlook  the  difficulties  which  so  complex  an  ar- 
rangement awakens  in  the  minds  of  the  uneducated,  and  it  was 
with  the  view  of  surmounting  these  entanglements  of  the  con- 
science and  understanding  that  the  late  Royal  Commissioners 
on  the  Rubrics  on  one  occasion  recommended  the  permission  to 
hold  the  whole  of  that  part  of  the  Baptismal  Service  as  optional. 

The  connection  of  the  Christian  name  with  Baptism  is  also 
a  result  of  the  change.  Properly  speaking,  the  name  is  not 
given  in  Baptism,  but,  having  been  already  given,  it  is  an- 
nounced in  Baptism  as  the  name  by  which  the  individuality 
and  personality  of  the  baptized  person  is  for  the  first  time  pub- 
licly recognized  in  the  Christian  assembly.  In  the  case  of  the 
Adult  Baptism  of  the  early  ages  this  was  obvious.  Flavins 
Constantinus  had  always  been  Flavius  Constantinus,  and  Aure- 
lius  Auffustinus  always  Aurelius  Augustinus.  It  was  only  when 
the  time  of  the  name-giving  and  of  the  baptism,  as  in  the  case 
of  infants,  so  nearly  coincided,  that  the  two  came  to  be  con- 
founded. 

Confirmation,  which  once  formed  a  part  of  Baptism,  has 
been  separated  from  it,  and  turned  into  a  new  ordinance, 
which  in  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  has  been  made  into  an- 
other sacrament.  Along  with  this  disruption  between  Con- 
firmation and  Baptism  has  taken  place  another  change, — the 
absolute  prohibition  throughout  the  Western  Church  of  Infant 
Communion,  which  in  the  early  Church  was,  as  it  still  is  in 
the  East,  the  inseparable  accompaniment  of  Infant  Baptism. 
In  early  ages,  as  in  the  Eastern  Church,  Confirmation  was  the 
title  given  to  the  unction  which  accompanied  Baptism ;  in  the 
later  Roman  Church, j-  and  in  most  Protestant  Churches,  it  is 

*  This  word,  as  is  well-known,  expresses  "  the  God  sib  "—the  religious  re- 
lationship—of the  several  parties,  and  has  acquired  its  secondary  sense  from 
the  tittle-tattle  of  christenings. 

t  In  the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  as  well  as  in  the  Church  of  Scotland,  includ- 
ing the  Episcopal  Church  in  Charles  the  Second's  time  (see  the  proceedings  of 
the  Synod  of  Dunblane),  the  preparation  for  Confirmation  is  virtually  super- 
seded by  the  preparation  for  the  first  communion,  which  in  the  Roman  Church 
precedes  Confirmation,  and  in  the  Scottisn  CLurch  has  taken  its  place. 

3 


26  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

the  title  given  to  the  open  adoption  of  the  Christian  faith 
and  life  in  mature  years. 

Another  curious  series  of  changes  has  taken  place  in  regard 
to  the  persons  who  administered  Baptism.  In  the  early  centu- 
ries it  was  only  the  Bishop,  and  hence  probably  has  originated 
the  retention  by  the  Episcopal  order  of  tnat  part  of  the  old 
Baptism  which,  as  we  have  just  said,  is  now  known  by  the 
name  of  Confirmation.  As  the  Episcopate  became  more  sepa- 
rate from  the  Presbyterate,  as  the  belief  in  the  paramount  ne- 
cessity of  Baptism  became  stronger,  as  the  population  of  Chris- 
tendom increased,  the  right  was  extended  to  Presbyters,  then 
to  Deacons,  and  at  last  to  laymen,  and,  in  defiance  of  all  early 
usage,  to  women.  And  thus  it  has  happened  by  one  of  those 
curious  introversions  of  sentiment  which  are  so  instructive  in 
ecclesiastical  history,  that  w^hilst  in  Protestant  Churches,  which 
lay  least  stress  on  the  outward  rite,  the  administration  is  vir- 
tually confined  to  the  clergy,  in  the  Roman  Catholic  Church, 
which  lays  most  stress  on  the  rite,  the  administration  is  ex- 
tended to  the  laity  and  to  the  female  sex.  This  is  a  formida- 
ble breach  in  the  usual  theories  concerning  the  indispensable 
necessity  of  the  clerical  order  for  the  administration  of  the 
sacramental  rites,  and  it  is  difficult  to  justify  the  difference  in 
principle  which  in  the  Roman  Church  has  rendered  the  prac- 
tice with  regard  to  the  sacrament  of  Baptism  so  exceedingly 
lax,  with  regard  to  the  sacrament  of  the  Eucharist  so  exceed- 
ingly rigid. 

Such  are  some  of  the  general  reflections  suggested  by  the 
revolutions  through  which  the  oldest  ordinance  of  the  Church 
has  come  down  to  our  day.  They  may  possibly  make  that 
ordinance  more  intelligible  both  to  those  who  adopt  and  to 
those  who  have  not  adopted  it.  They  may  also  serve  to  illus- 
trate the  transformation  both  of  letter  and  spirit  through  which 
all  sacred  ordinances  which  retain  any  portion  of  their  original 
vitality  must  pass. 


THE  EUCHARIST.  27 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE     EUCHARIST. 

It  is  proposed  to  give  an  acctniiit  of  the  primitive  institution 
of  the  Sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper — unquestionably  the 
greatest  religious  ordinance  of  the  world,  whether  as  regards 
its  almost  universal  adoption  in  the  civilized  world,  or  the 
passions  which  it  has  enkindled,  or  the  opposition  which  it  has 
evoked. 

Unlike  many  of  the  records  of  the  Gospel  story,  which  from 
the  variety  and  contradiction  of  the  narratives,  and  from  the 
question  as  to  the  date  and  authorship  of  the  Gospels,  are 
involved  in  difficulty,  the  narrative  of  the  Institution  of  the 
Lord's  Supper  is  preserved  to  us  on  the  whole  with  singular 
uniformity  in  the  three  first  Gospels,  and  more  than  this,  it  is 
preserved  to  us  almost  in  the  same  form  in  St.  Paul's  First 
Epistle  to  the  Corinthians,  and  in  that  case  in  one  of  the  few 
writings  of  the  New  Testament  of  which  the  authority  has 
never  been  questioned  at  all,  and  which  belongs  to  a  date  long 
anterior  to  any  of  the  Gospels,  and  which  is  therefore  at  once 
the  earliest  and  the  most  authentic  of  any  part  of  the  Gospel 
History.  What  St.  Paul  tells  us  about  the  Last  Supper  is  a 
fragment  of  the  Gospel  History  Avhich  all  critics  and  scholars 
Avill  at  once  admit.  "The  Supper  was  universally  instituted 
or  founded  by  Jesus."  *  There  is  nothing  startling,  nothing 
difficult  to  accept  in  the  account — no  miraculous  portents,  no 
doctrine  difficult  of  apprehension — but  it  contains  many  of  the 
best  characteristics  of  Our  Lord's  discourses — His  deep  ailec- 
tion  to  His  disciples — His  parabolical  mode  of  expression — 
His  desire  to  be  remembered  after  He  was  gone — His  mixture 
of  joyous  festivity  with  serious  earnestness.     It  contains  also 

♦  Strauss's  Life  ofJesut. 


28  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

by  implication  the  story  of  His  arrival  in  Jerusalem,  of  His 
betrayal,  and  of  His  death.  We  have  enough  in  this  to  build 
upon.  No  one  doubts  it.  Every  one  may  construct  from  it  a 
Christianity  sufficient  for  his  belief  and  for  his  conduct. 

By  dwelling  on  the  original  form  we  pass  out  of  the  midst 
of  modern  controversy  to  a  better,  simpler,  higher  atmosphere. 
It  is  said  that  a  great  genius  in  Finance,*  when  on  the  point  of 
receiving  a  first  communion  in  the  years  which  followed  the 
first  Revolution,  Avas  overwhelmed  by  the  distracting  and  per- 
plexing thoughts  suggested  by  all  the  doubts  which  raged  on 
the  subject,  but  was  restored  to  calm  by  fixing  the  mind  on 
the  one  original  scene  from  which  the  Christian  Eucharist  has 
sprung.  Let  us  do  the  same.  Let  us  go  back  to  that  one 
occasion,  out  of  which,  all  are  agreed,  both  its  unity  and  its 
differences  arose. 

It  was  not,  as  with  us,  in  the  early  morning  or  at  noonday, 
but  in  the  evening,  shortly  after  sunset — not  on  the  first  day 
^   ^.  of  the  week,  nor  the  seventh,  but  on  the  fifth,  or 

Thursday,  that  the  Master  and  His  disciples  met 
together.  The  remembrance  of  the  day  of  the  week  has  now 
entirely  perished  except  in  Passion  Week.  It  was  revived  in 
the  time  of  Calvin,  who  proposed  in  recollection  of  it  to  have 
the  chief  Christian  festival  and  day  of  rest  transferred  on  this 
account  from  Sunday  to  Thursday.  But  this  was  never  carried 
out,  and  the  day  remains  now  unremembered.  The  remem- 
brance still  lingers  in  the  name  when  we  call  it  a  supper — the 
Lord's  Supper — and  still  more  in  Germany,  the  Holy  Evening 
Meal.  For  such  it  was.  It  was  tlie  evening  feast,  of  which 
every  Jewish  household  partook  on  the  night,  as  it  might  be, 
before  or  after  the  Passover.  They  were  collected  together, 
the  Master  and  His  twelve  disciples,  in  one  of  the  large  upper 
rooms  above  the  open  court  of  the  inn  or  caravanseira  to  which 
they  had  been  guided.  The  couches  or  mats  were  spread 
round  the  room,  as  in  all  Eastern  houses;  and  on  those  the 
guests  lay  reclined,  three  on  each  couch,  according  to  the  cus- 
tom derived  from  the  universal  usage  of  the  Greek  or  Roman 
world.  The  ancient  Jewish  usage  of  eatmg  the  Passover 
standing  had  given  way,  and  a  symbolical  meanmg  was  given 

♦  Memoirs  of  George  Sa7id. 


i 


TEE  EUCHARIST.  29 

to  what  was  in  fact  a  mere  social  fashion,  that  they  might  lie 
then  like  kings,  with  the  ease  becoming  free  men.* 

There  they  lay,  the  Lord  in  the  midst,  next  to  the  beloved 
disciple,  and  next  to  him  the  eldest,  Peter.  Of  the  position  of 
the  others  we  know  nothing.  There  was  placed  on  The  ele- 
the  table  in  front  of  the  guests,  one,  two,  perhaps  ments. 
four  cups,  or  rather  bowls.  There  is  at  Genoa  a  bowl  which 
professes  to  be  the  original  chalice — a  mere  fancy,  no  doubt 
— but  probably  representing  the  original  shape.  This  bowl 
was  filled  Avith  wine  mixed  up  with  water.  The  wine  of 
old  times  was  always  mixed  with  water.  No  one  ever  thought 
of  taking  it  without,  just  as  now  no  one  would  think  of  taking 
treacle  or  vinegar  without  water.  Beside  the  cup  was  one  or 
more  of  the  large  thin  Passover  cakes  of  unleavened  bread, 
such  as  may  still  at  the  Paschal  season  be  seen  in  all  Jewish 
houses.  It  is  this  of  which  the  outward  form  has  been  pre- 
served m  the  thin  round  wafer  which  is  used  in  the  Roman 
Catholic  and  Lutheran  Churches.  It  was  the  recollection  of 
the  unleavened  bread  of  the  Israelites  when  they  left  Egypt. 
As  the  wine  was  mixed  with  water,  so  the  bread  was  probably 
served  up  with  fish.  The  two  always  went  together.  We  see 
examples  of  it  in  the  earlier  meals  in  the  Gospel,  and  so  doubt- 
less it  was  in  this  last.  Close  beside  this  cake  was  another 
recollection  of  the  Passover — a  thick  sop,  which  was  supposed 
to  be  like  the  Egyptian  clay,  and  in  which  the  fragments  of 
the  Paschal  cake  were  dipped.  Round  this  table,  leaning  on 
each  other's  breasts,  reclining  on  those  couches,  were  the 
twelve  disciples  and  their  Mastei*.  From  mouth  to  mouth 
passed  to  and  fro  the  eager  inquiry,  and  the  startled  look  when 
they  heard  that  one  of  them  should  betray  Him.']-  Across  the 
table  and  from  side  to  side  were  shot  the  earnest  questions 
from  Peter,  from  Jude,  from  Thomas,  from  Philip.  In  each 
face  might  have  been  traced  the  character  of  each — receiving 
a  different  impression  from  what  he  saw  and  heard — and  in 
the  midst  of  all  this  the  majestic  sorrowful  countenance  of  the 

*  Maimonides,  Pesach,  10.  1 ;  Farrar,  Life  of  Christ,  ii.  278. 

t  In  this  respect  the  picture  of  the  Last  Supper  by  Leonardo  da  Vinci  gives 
a  true  impression.  The  moment  represented  is  that  in  which,  as  a  bomb- 
shell, the  declaration  that  one  of  them  shduUl  betray  Him  has  fallen  among 
the  Apostles.  It  is  not  a  picture  of  the  Last  Supper,  so  much  as  the  expres 
sion  or  the  various  emotions  called  forth  by  that  announcement. 


30  CmtlSTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

Master  of  the  Feast,  as  He  drew  towards  Him  the  several  cups 
and  the  thin  transparent  cake,  and  pronounced  over  each  the 
Jewish  blessing  with  thoce  few  words  which  have  become 
immortal. 

Let  us  see  then  from  hence  the  details  of  the  first  institution 
of  the  ordiance. 

1.  It  was  the  ancient  Jewish  paschal  meal.  He  showed  by 
thus  using  it  that  He  did  not  mean  to  part  the  new  from  the 

old.  He  intended  that  there  should  be  this  con- 
tion  with  ncction,  however  slight,  Avith  the  ancient  Israelito 
Judaism.  nation.  The  blessing  which  He  pronounced  on  the 
cup  ard  the  bread  was  taken  from  the  blessing  which  the 
Jewish  householder  pronounced  on  them.  The  "  hymn " 
which  they  sang  was  the  long  chant  from  the  1 1 3tli  to  the 
1 1 8th  Psalm,  celebrating  the  Exodus.  The  moon  which  shone 
into  that  upper  room,  and  which  shines  over  our  Easter  night, 
is  the  successor  of  the  moon  which  lighted  up  the  night  to  be 
ever  remembered  when  Israel  came  out  of  Egypt.*  The  most 
Christian  of  all  Christian  ordiances  is  thus  the  most  Jewish. 
Whitsunday  has  hardly  any  Jewish  recollections,  Christmas  and 
Good  Friday  none.  But  Easter  and  the  Lord's  Supper  are  the 
Passover  in  another  form,  and  the  link  which  binds  the  old 
and  the  new  together  is  the  same  sense  of  deliveiance.  The 
birthday  of  the  Jewish  Religion  was  the  day  of  the  birth  of  a 
free  people.  The  birthday  of  the  Christian  Religion  was  no 
less  the  day  of  the  birth  of  the  freedom  of  the  human  race,  of 
the  human  conscience,  of  the  human  soul.  "  This  year,"  so 
says  the  Jewish  service,  "  we  are  servants  here ;  next  year  we 
hope  to  be  freemen  in  the  land  of  Israel."  This  year  Christen- 
dom may  be  a  slave  to  its  prejudices  and  its  passions;  next 
year  it  may  hope  to  be  free  in  the  land  of  goodness. 

2.  But  out  of  this  supper  He  chose  those  elements  which 
were  most  simple  and  most  enduring.  He  left  altogether  out 
Selection  of  of  notice  the  paschal  lamb  and  the  bitter  herbs.  He 
the  most        ^\^\(\  j^^^  think  it  necessarv  to  accept  all  or  reiect  all 

universa.1  *  i  j 

elements.  of  what  He  found.  Here  as  elsewhere  He  used 
the  best  of  what  came  before  Him.     He  exercised  His  free 

*  The  hymn  which  Sir  Walter  Siott  has  put  into  the  mouth  of  a  Jewess, 
"  When  Israel  forth  from  bondage  came,"  is  also  one  of  the  very  best  hymns 
of  Christians. 


THE  EUCHARIST.  31 

right  of  choice.  "\Mien  He  took  into  His  hands — "His  holy 
and  venerable  hands,"  as  the  old  Liturgies  express  it — the 
paschal  bread  and  the  paschal  wine,  it  was  the  selection  of 
them  from  the  rest  of  the  Jewish  cerecnony,  as  He  selected 
His  doctrine  from  the  rest  of  the  Jewish  books  and  Jewish 
teaching.  He  said  nothing  of  the  water  which  was  mixed 
with  the  wine.  That  was  a  mere  passing  custom  which  would 
change  with  time  and  fashion.  He  said  nothing  of  the  form 
or  materials  of  the  bread.  It  was  unleavened,  it  was  round, 
it  was  thin,  it  was  a  cake  rather  than  a  loaf.  But  He  said 
nothing  of  all  these  things,  nothing  of  the  accompanying  fish. 
All  those  questions  which  have  arisen  as  to  the  proportions  in 
which  the  materials  should  be  mixed  were  far,  very  far  behind 
Him,  or  far,  very  far  beyond  Him.  He  took  the  bread  and 
wine  as  He  found  them ;  He  fixed  on  the  bread  and  wine  as 
representing  those  two  sustaining  elements  which  are  found 
almost  everywhere — bread  that  strengtheneth  man's  heart,  wine 
that  maketh  glad  the  heart  of  man.  These  were  the  fruits  of 
the  earth  which  He  blessed,  for  which  He  gave  thanks,  to 
indicate  the  gratitude  of  man  for  these  simple  gifts.  As  in 
His  teaching  He  had  chosen  the  most  homely  images  of  the 
shepherd,  the  sower,  the  guest,  the  traveller,  so  in  His  worship 
He  chose  the  most  homely  elements  of  food.  How  great  is 
the  co'^^trast  with  the  sacred  emblems  of  other  religions — the 
bvdls,  the  goats,  the  white  horses,  the  jewels,  the  robes.  It  is 
the  servants,  the  inferiors,  the  precursors,  who  need  these  ap- 
pendages to  mark  them.  The  True  Master  is  known  by  the 
simplicity  of  His  appearance,  the  plainness  of  His  manners  and 
His  dress. 

3.  He  chose  also  this  particular  occasion,  His  parting  supper, 
His  farewell  meal,  as  the  foundation  of  His  most  sacred  ordi- 
nance, to  show  us  that  here,  as  elsewhere,  His  reli-  parting 
gion  was  to  be  part  of  our  common  life,  not  sep-  ^^a'- 
arated  from  it — that  the  human  affections  of  friend  for  friend, 
the  sorrow  of  parting,  the  joy  of  meeting  again,  are  the  very 
bonds  by  which  union  and  sympathy  are  formed.  The  very 
name  of  supper  reminds  us  that  our  holiest  religious  ordinance 
sprung  from  a  festive  meal,  amidst  eating  and  drinking,  amidst 
weeping  and  rejoicing,  amidst  question  and  answer.  It  proves 
that  amongst  the  means  of  Christian  edification,  not  the  least 


32  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

are  those  interclianges  of  hospitality  where  man  talks  freely 
with  man,  friend  with  friend,  guest  -with  guest.  ^lany  such  a 
meal  has  ere  this  worked  the  blessed  work  of  even  a  Christian 
sacrament.  How  wise  is  that  advice  given  by  a  great  humorist 
of  our  age,*  not  less  wise  than  he  was  witty,  that  bishops 
should  compose  the  differences  of  their  clergy  not  by  rebukes, 
but  by  meeting  at  the  same  social  table.  How  many  a  quarrel, 
how  many  a  heart-burning,  how  many  a  false  estrangement, 
might  in  like  manner  be  reconciled  and  done  away  with  by  the 
Sacred  Sapper,  which  is  the  prototype  and  ideal  of  all  suppers, 
of  every  chief  meal  of  the  day  everywhere.  "  The  supper,"  says 
Luther,  "  which  Christ  held  with  His  disciples  when  He  gave 
them  His  farewell,  must  have  been  full  of  friendly  heart-inter- 
course ;  for  Christ  spoke  just  as  tenderly  and  cordially  to  them 
as  a  father  to  his  dear  little  children  when  he  is  obliged  to  part 
from  them.  He  made  the  best  of  their  infirmities  and  had 
patience  with  them,  although  all  the  while  they  were  so  slow 
to  understand,  and  still  lisped  like  babes.  Yet  that  must  in- 
deed have  been  choice  friendly  and  delightful  converse  when 
Philip  said,  '  Show  us  the  way,'  and  Thomas  said,  '  We  know 
not  the  way,'  and  Peter,  '  I  will  go  with  tliee  to  prison  and  to 
death.'  It  was  simple,  quiet  table-talk ;  every  one  opening  his 
heart,  and  showing  his  thoughts  freely  and  frankly,  and  with- 
out restraint.  Never  since  the  world  began  was  there  a  more 
delightful  meal  than  that."  It  is  the  likeness,  the  model,  of 
all  serious  conversation,  of  all  family  intercourse,  of  all  social 
reciprocity. 

4.  And  lastly,  He  gave  all  these  things  a  new  meaning. 
Here,  as  elsewhere,  what  He  touched  He  vivified,  what  He 
Its  future  used  He  transformed  and  transfigured.  It  might 
meaning.  have  been  otherwise.  We  might  have  inherited 
only  the  Paschal  feast — the  blessing  of  the  natural  gifts — the 
social  meal.  But  He  did  more  than  this.  He  tells  them  that 
it  is  Himself  who  is  to  live  over  again  in  their  thoughts  every 
time  they  break  that  bread  and  drink  that  wine.  What  those 
common  earthly  sustenances  are  to  their  bodies,  that  His  Spirit 
must  be  to  their  souls.  This  was  what  the  Apostles  needed  at 
that  moment  of  depression.     They  felt  that  He  was  going  to 

*  Sydney  Smith. 


THE  EUCHARIST.  33 

leave  them ;  He  made  them  feel  that  He  would  still  be  with 
them.  It  was  to  be  a  memorial  of  His  death,  but  it  was  also 
to  be  a  pledge  of  His  life.  Five  versions  have  been  handed 
down  to  us  of  the  words  which  He  used — one  by  St.  Matthew, 
one  by  St.  Mark,  one  by  St.  Luke,  one  by  St.  Paul,  a  fifth  is 
found  in  the  oldest  Liturgical  forms  of  the  early  Church,  dif- 
fering from  the  others.  In  the  Fourth  Gospel,  whilst  the 
words  are  not  given  at  all,  their  substance  extends  through  the 
whole  of  that  parting  discourse  Avhich  is  in  this  account  a  sub- 
stitute for  them.  This  variety  of  narratives,  whilst  it  shows 
the  slight  value  which  those  early  times  attached  to  the  letter, 
shows  also  the  essential  spirit  of  the  whole  transaction.  "  This 
is  ray  Body."  "  This  is  my  Blood."  "  This  is  the  New  Tes- 
tament." "  I  am  the  vine."  "  I  am  the  way,  the  truth,  and 
the  life."  "  It  is  expedient  for  you  that  I  go  away,  for  if  I  go 
not  away  the  Comforter  will  not  come  to  you."  What  the 
Apostles  are  imagined  to  have  felt  as  they  heard  those  words 
is  represented  by  their  questions  and  answers.  In  various 
forms  they  longed  to  know  whither  He  was  going, — they  asked 
Him  to  show  them  the  Father, — they  asked  that  He  would 
manifest  Himself  to  them  and  not  to  the  world.  But,  one  and 
all,  amidst  all  their  failings,  they  were  clieered  and  strength- 
ened. They  felt  that  they  had  not  parted  with  Him  forever. 
The  very  manner  in  which  He  broke  the  bread  was  enough  to 
bring  Him  back  to  their  recollections.  They  recognized  Him 
by  it  at  Emmaus  and  on  the  shores  of  Gennesareth.  It  was 
not  only  as  they  had  seen  Him  at  the  last  supper,  but  at  those 
earlier  feasts  where  He  had  blessed  and  broken  the  bread  and 
distributed  the  fishes  on  the  hills  of  Galilee.  The  Last  Supper 
was  in  fact  a  continuation  of  those  meals.*  It  belonged  to  the 
future  side  of  His  life ;  that  is,  as  He  Himself  had  explained  to 
them,  not  the  flesh,  which  profited  nothing,  but  the  words 
which  were  His  spirit  and  His  life.  Not  only  these  expres- 
sions, but  many  others  yet  stronger,  repeat  over  arul  over  the 
truth  which  that  last  supper  taught.  Christ's  own  inmost  self 
would  remain  always  the  life  and  soul  of  the  Church  and  of 
the  world.  "  Wherever  two  or  three  are  gathered  in  my  name, 
there  am  I  in  the  midst  of  you."     "  Inasmuch  as  you  did  it  to 

*  Renan,  Vie  de  Maua,  303, 303. 


34  CHRISTIAN  IN8TlTtlTlON&. 

the  least  of  these  my  brethren  you  did  it  to  me."  "  Lo,  I  am 
with  you  always,  even  to  the  end  of  the  world." 

It  is  also  the  glorification  of  the  power  of  Memory.  Each 
one  may  think  of  those  who  are  gone,  and  whose  bequests  we 
still  desire  to  carry  on.  Each  one,  as  at  the  Lord's  Table  we 
think  of  the  departed,  and  think  also  of  any  friendless  one  to 
be  comforted,  of  any  institution  needing  help,  of  any  suffering 
one  to  be  cheered,  may  hear  the  voice,  whatsoever  it  may  be, 
nearest  and  dearest,  or  highest  and  holiest,  in  the  other  world, 
saying,  "  This  do,  in  remembrance  of  MeP  Remembrance — 
recalling  of  the  past — is  the  moral,  mental,  spiritual  means  by 
which  "  the  Last  Supper  "  becomes  "  the  Lord's  Supper." 

They  who  believe  in  the  singular  mercy  and  compassion 
shown  in  the  Parable  of  the  Prodigal  Son,  or  in  the  toleration 
and  justice  due  to  those  who  are  of  another  religion,  as  in  the 
Parable  of  the  Good  Samaritan,  they,  whether  they  be  Chris- 
tian in  name  or  not,  Avhether  they  have  or  have  not  partaken 
of  the  sacrament,  have  thus  received  Christ,  because  they  have 
received  that  which  was  the  essence  of  Christ,  His  spirit  of 
mercy  and  toleration. 

It  is  the  simple  fact,  which  no  one  of  whatever  creed  dis- 
putes, that  Christ  has  been,  and  is  still,  the  Soul  of  Christen- 
dom, and  to  His  life  we  go  back  to  recover  our  ideal  of  what 
Christianity  is — that  wherever  we  meet  any  good  thought  or 
deed,  any  suffering  or  want  to  be  relieved  in  any  part  of  the 
world,  there  we  touch  a  hand  that  is  vanished — there  we  hear 
a  voice  that  is  silent.  It  is  the  hand,  it  is  the  voice,  of  our 
Redeemer.  Other  teachers,  other  founders  of  religions,  have 
cared  that  their  names  should  be  honored  and  remembered.  He 
cared  not  for  this,  if  only  Himself,  His  spirit.  His  works,  sur- 
vived— if  to  the  poor,  the  suffering,  the  good  everywhere,  were 
paid  the  tenderness,  the  hpnor,  due  to  Him.  In  theii  happi- 
ness He  is  blessed,  in  their  honor  He  is  honored,  and  in  their 
reception  He  is  received.  It  is  the  last  triumph  of  Divine  un- 
selfishness, and  it  is  its  last  and  greatest  reward.  For  thus  He 
lives  again  in  His  members  and  they  live  in  Him.  Even  those 
who  have  most  questioned  and  most  doubted  acknowledge 
that  "  He  is  a  thousand  times  more  living,  a  thousand  times 
more  loved,  than  He  was  in  His  short  passage  through  life, 
that  He  presides  still  day  by  day  over  the  destiny  of  the  world. 


THE  EUCHARIST.  35 

He  started  us  on  a  new  direction,  and  in  that  direction  we  still 
move, 


)'  * 


It  used  to  be  said  in  the  wars  between  the  Moors  and  the 
Spaniards  that  a  perfect  character  would  be  the  man  who  had 
the  virtues  of  the  Mussulman  and  the  creed  of  the  Christian. 
But  this  is  exactly  reversing  our  Lord's  doctrine.  If  the 
virtues  of  the  Arabs  were  greater  than  the  virtues  of  the  Span- 
iards, then,  whether  they  accepted  Christ  in  word  or  not,  it 
was  they  who  were  the  true  believers,  and  it  was  the  Christians 
who  were  the  infidels. 

When  the  Norman  bishops  asked  Anselm  whether  Alfege, 
who  was  killed  by  the  Danes  at  Greenwich,  could  be  called  a 
martyr,  because  he  died  not  on  behalf  of  the  faith  of  Christ, 
but  only  to  prevent  the  levying  of  an  unjust  tax,  Anselm 
answered :  "  He  was  a  martyr,  because  he  died  for  justice ; 
justice  is  the  essence  of  Christ,  even  although  His  name  is  not 
mentioned."  The  Norman  prelates,  so  far  as  their  complaint 
went,  were  unbelievers  in  the  true  nature  of  Christ.  Anselm 
was  a  profound  believer,  just  as  Alfege  was  an  illustrious 
martyr.  When  Bishop  Pearson  in  his  Avork  on  the  Creed  vin- 
dicates the  Divinity  of  Christ  without  the  slightest  mention  of 
any  of  those  moral  qualities  by  which  He  has  bowed  down  the 
\frorld  before  Him,  his  grasp  on  the  doctrine  is  far  feebler  than 
that  of  Rousseau  or  Mill,  who  have  seized  the  very  attributes 
which  constitute  the  marrow  and  essence  of  His  nature.  When 
Commander  Goodenough,  on  one  of  the  most  edifying,  the 
most  inspiring,  death-beds  which  can  be  imagined,  spoke  in 
the  most  heroic  and  saintly  accents  to  his  sailors  and  friends, 
there  were  pious  souls  who  were  deeply  perplexed  because  he 
had  not  mentioned  the  name  of  Jesus.  It  was  they  who  for 
the  moment  were  faithless,  as  it  was  he  who  was  the  true  be- 
liever, although,  except  in  a  language  they  did  not  understand, 
he  had  not  spoken  expressly  of  the  Saviour  with  whose  Spirit 
he  was  so  deeply  penetrated. 

Such  are  some  of  the  ways  in  which  the  life  of  Christ  is 
still  lived  on  the  earth. 

•  Benan,  Vie  de  Jiaus,  p.  421. 


36  CEBI8TIAN  IMSTITUTI0N8. 


CHAPTER  IIL 

THE  EUCHARIST  IN  THE  EARLY  CHURCH. 

We  now  pass  from  the  original  institution  to  its  contin- 
uance in  the  ApostoUc  age  and  in  the  two  centuries  that 
followed. 

The  change  had  already  begun.  The  Paschal  elements  had 
dropped  out.  The  lamb,  the  bitter  herbs,  the  sop,  the  hymn, 
had  all  disappeared ;  the  idea  of  the  last  parting  of  friends  had 
also  vanished.  Three — possibly  four — examples  of  it  are  given 
in  the  first  century.  In  the  Acts  the  believers  at  Jerusalem 
are  described  as  partaking  of  a  daily  meal,  in  their  private 
houses,  as  part  of  their  religious  devotions.*  At  Corinth  the 
same  custom  can  still  be  traced  as  part  of  a  meal.j-  At  Troas, 
on  the  Apostle's  last  journey,  it  is  again  indicated  in  connection 
with  the  first  distinct  notice  of  the  religious  observance  of  the 
first  day  of  the  week.  J  On  the  voyage  to  Rome  it  can  be 
discerned,  though  more  doubtfully,  in  the  midst  of  a  common 
meal.  §  One  characteristic  these  accounts  possess  in  common. 
The  earthly  and  the  heavenly,  the  social  and  the  religious, 
aspect  of  life  were  not  yet  divided  asunder.  The  meal  and 
the  sacrament  blended  thus  together  were  the  complete  realiza- 
tion in  outward  form  of  the  Apostle's  words, — perhaps,  in  fact, 
suggested  by  it, — "  Whether  ye  eat  or  drink,  or  whatsoever  ye 
do,  do  all  to  the  glory  of  God ; "  "  Whatsoever  ye  do,  in  word 
or  deed,  do  all  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  giving  thanks  to 
God  and  tlie  Father  by  Him." 

Perhaps  the  nearest  likeness  now  existing  to  the  union  of 
social  intercourse  with  religious  worship  is  to  be  found  in  the 
services  of  the  Church  which  of  all  others  has  been  least 
changed  in  form,  however  much  it  may  have  altered  in  spirit, 


♦  Acts  ii.  42.  1 1  Cor.  xi.  20.  t  Acts  xx.  7.  B  Acts  xxvli.  35. 


THE  EUCHARIST  IN  THE  EARLY  CHURCH.       37 

from  ancient  times — the  services  of  the  Coptic  or  Egyptian 
Churcli  of  Alexandria,  There  is,  indeed,  even  less  of  a  supper 
in  the  Coptic  Eucharist  than  there  is  in  that  of  the  "Western 
Churches ;  but  there  is  more  of  primitive  freedom  and  of  inno- 
cent enjoyment,  the  worshippers  coming  to  meet  each  other 
and  talk  to  each  other,  to  be  like  a  family  gathering,  than  is 
ever  seen  in  any  European  Church. 

But  even  in  early  times,  even  in  the  Apostolical  age,  the  dif- 
ficulties of  bringing  an  ideal  and  an  actual  life  together  made 
themselves  felt.  As  the  faults  of  Ananias  and  Sapphira 
profaned  and  made  impossible  a  community  of  property  in 
Jerusalem,  so  the  excesses  and  disorders  of  the  Corinthian 
Christians  profaned  and  made  impossible  a  continuance  of  the 
primitive  celebration  of  the  Eucharist.  The  community  of 
property  had  vanished,  and  so  had  the  community  of  the 
sacrament.  The  time  was  coming  when  the  secular  and  the 
spiritual  were  disentangled  one  from  the  other;  the  simplicity 
and  the  gladness  of  the  primitive  communion  could  no  longer 
be  continued,  and  therefore  the  form  is  altered  to  ease  the 
spirit.     This  we  shall  endeavor  to  unravel  in  detail. 

I.  The  festive  character  of  the  meal,  which  was  its  predom- 
inant character,  in  the  first  age,  lasted  for  some  time  after  the 
change  of  its  outward  detail  began  to  take  effect,  jtg  festive 
In  some  respects  it  had  been  enhanced  and  empha-  character, 
sized  by  its  combination  with  Gentile  usages.  It  was  like 
the  dinner  of  a  club,  or,  as  the  Greeks  termed  it,  an  eranus — 
a  fraternity. 

This  was  one  of  the  peculiar  experiments  of  Greek  social 
life.  The  clubs — sometimes  calied  erani,  sometimes  thiasi — ■ 
of  Athens,  of  Rhodes,  and  of  the  -^Egean  isles  were  savings 
banks,  insurance  offices,  mutual  help  societies.  They  had  their 
devices  engraven  on  tablets.  They  had  their  common  festive 
meals — usually  in  gardens,  round  an  altar  with  sacrifices.  They 
were  the  centres  of  whatever  sentiments  of  piety,  charitj',  and 
religious  morality  lingered  in  Greek  society.*  "  A  common 
meal  is  the  most  natural  and  universal  way  of  expressing, 
maintaining,  and  as  it  were  notifying  relations  of  kinship.  The 
spirit   of  antiquity  regarded  the  meals   of  human   beings  as 

•  See  the  authorities  quoted  in  Renan,  Les  Apotres,  pp.  352, 363. 


38  CHRISTIAN  mSTlTUTIONS. 

having  the  nature  of  sacred  things."  If,  therefore,  it  sounds 
degrading  to  compare  or  connect  the  Christian  Communion  to 
a  cluh  dinner,  it  is  owing  to  the  fact  that  the  moderns  connect 
less  dignified  associations  with  meals  than  the  ancients  did, 
and  that  most  clubs  have  a  far  less  obvious  dignity  than  the 

first  Christian  society When  men  of  different  degrees 

or  nations  received  together  as  from  the  hand  of  God  this 
simple  repast,  they  were  reminded  in  the  most  forcible  manner 
of  their  common  human  wants  and  their  common  character  of 
pensioners  on  the  bounty  of  the  Universal  Father.* 

In  the  Communion  of  the  first  and  second  centuries  this 
character  of  the  Grecian  club  was  evident  in  its  very  outset,  for 
each  brought,  as  to  the  common  meal,  his  own  contribution  in 
his  basket,  each  helped  himself  from  the  common  tal)lc.j-  So 
we  see  them  in  the  catacombs,  and  in  a  bas-relief  in  S. 
Ambrogio  at  Milan,  sitting  round  a  semicircular  table,  men 
and  women  together,  which  so  far  was  an  infringement  on  the 
Greek  custom,  where  the  sexes  were  kept  apart.  More  than 
once  a  woman  presides.  Two  maidens  appear ;  we  can  hardly 
tell  whether  they  are  real  or  allegorical,  but  if  allegorical  they 
would  not  have  been  introduced  unless  they  might  have  been 
real.  "Irene,  da  calida — Agape,  misce  mi"  J  (Peace,  give  me 
the  hot  water — Love,  mix  it  for  me).  It  was  also,  in  connection 
with  the  dead,  a  likeness  of  the  funeral  feast,  such  as  existed  in 
pagan  households,  the  family  meeting  annually  to  a  repast,  in 
the  cellce  memorice,  with  couches,  coverlets,  and  dresses  pro- 
vided. § 

This  combination  of  a  repast  and  a  religious  rite  is  already 
familiar  by  the  practice  of  the  religious  world  amongst  the 
Jews.  There  were  the  meals  of  the  priests,  who,  coming  up 
from  their  homes  in  the  country  for  the  Temple  service,  lived 
together  like  fellows  of  a  college,  and  dined  at  a  common 
table,  with  the  strictness  of  etiquette  which  became  their 
position,  always  washing  before  sitting  down,  blessing  the 
bread  and  wine,  and  uttering  thanks  after  the  close.  These 
common  meals  were  usually  on  festivals  or  Sabbaths.||     The 

*  Ecce  Homo,  pp.  173,  174. 

t  This  was  changed  before  TertuUian's  time  (De  Corona,  2,  3). 

X  Renan,  St.  Paul,  2G0. 

§  Smith's  Dictiijuan/  of  Christian  Antiquities,  "  Cellar  Memoriaj,"  p.  387. 

B  Derenbourg,  Palestine,  142-401;  Geiger,  Ursclirift,  123. 


THE  EXfCHARIST  IN  THE  EARLY  CHURCH.       39 

schools  of  the  Pharisees  earned  out  the  imitation  of  this  in 
their  ordinary  hfe,  adding  the  same  care  to  preserve  the  like- 
ness of  a  meal  in  the  Temple.  In  order  to  avoid  breaking  the 
Sabbath  by  going  or  carrying  provisions  more  than  2,000 
cubits  on  the  Sal)bath,  they  invented  a  plan  of  depositing  their 
provisions  at  intervals  of  2,000  cubits,  so  as  to  create  imagi- 
nary houses,  from  each  of  which  they  could  lawfully  go.  The 
Essenes  always  took  their  meals  in  common  with  the  same 
object.* 

Gradually  the  repast  was  parted  from  the  religious  act. 
The  repast  became  more  and  more  secular,  the  religious  act 
more  and  more  sacred.  Already  in  the  Apostolic  age  the 
Apostle's  stern  rebuke  had  commenced  the  separation.  From 
century  to  century  the  breach  widened.  The  two  remained 
for  a  time  together,  but  distinct,  the  meal  immediately  pre- 
ceding or  succeeding  the  sacrament.  Then  the  ministers 
alone,  instead  of  the  congregation,  took  the  charge  of  dis- 
tributing the  elements.  Then  by  the  second  century  the  dai- 
ly administration  ceased,  and  was  confined  to  Sundays  and 
festivals.  Then  the  meal  came  to  be  known  by  the  distinct 
name  of  agape.  Even  the  Apostolical  description  of  "the 
Lord's  Supper"  was  regarded  as  belonging  to  a  meal,  altogether 
distinct  from  the  sacrament.  Finally  the  meal  itself  fell  under 
suspicion.  Augustine  and  Ambrose  condemned  the  thing 
itself,  as  the  Apostle  had  condemned  its  excesses,  and  in  the 
fifth  century  •]•  that  which  had  been  the  original  form  of  the 
Eucharist  was  forbidden  as  profane  by  the  councils  of  Car- 
thage and  Laodicea.  It  was  the  parallel  to  the  gradual  extinc- 
tion of  the  bath  in  baptism. J 

But  of  this  social,  festive  characteristic  of  the  Eucharistic 
meal  many  vestiges  long  continued,  and  some  continue  still. 

1.  The  name  of  the  Lord's  Supj^er  was  too  closely  connect- 
ed with  the  original  institution  to  be  allowed  altogether  to 
perish.     To  this  we  will  return  for  another  reason  presently. 

*  Derenbour^,  Palestine,  142. 

+  Kenan's  St.  Paul,  26a;  Bingham's  Antiquities,  xv.  7. 

t  An  exactly  analogous  process  may  be  seen  in  the  usage  of  the  Church  of 
Scotland.  Originally  there  was  no  religious  service  at  a  Scottish  funeral, 
only  a  meal  with  a  grace  at  the  dead  man's  house.  The  meal  has  gradually 
dwindled  away  to  a  glass  of  wine  and  a  few  morsels  of  biscuit;  the  grace  has 
swelled  into  a  chapter,  a  praj'er,  a  blessing,  and  contains  the  germ  of  the 
whole  funeral  service  of  the  Church  of  England. 


40  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

But  even  tne  other  names  of  the  ordinance  have  reference  to  the 
social  gatherings.  The  word  in  the  Eastern  Church  is  either 
ovva^i?  (synaxis),  a  coming  together,  or  (as  in  Russian)  obed- 
nia,  a  feast.  Collecta  is  in  the  Latin  Church  a  translation  of 
synaxis,  and  "  collect "  for  the  prayer  used  in  the  Communion 
Service  is  probably  derived  from  the  whole  service.  It  was 
"  oratio  ad  colhctam;"  then  by  way  of  abbreviation  the  prayer 
itself  came  to  be  called  '^collect."  Communion  is  a  word  which 
conveys  the  same  import.  It  is  joint  jyarticipation.  The  word 
mass  ovmissa  is  often  derived  from  the  accidental  phrase  at  the 
end  of  the  service,  "  Ita  jnissa  *  est,''''  as  if  the  heathen  sacrifices 
had  been  called  "  Ilicet.''^  But  it  is  at  least  an  ingenious  explana- 
tion that  it  is  a  phrase  taken  from  the  food  placed  on  the 
table — missus  j- — or  possibly  from  the  table  itself — mensa — 
and  thence  perpetuating  itself  in  the  old  English  word  "  mess 
of  pottage,"  "soldier's  mess  "J — and  in  the  solemn  words  for 
feasts,  as  Christmas  for  the  Feast  of  the  Nativity,  ISIichaelmas  for 
the  Feast  of  St.  Michael,  and  the  like.  In  that  case  "the 
mass"  would  be  an  example  of  a  word  which  has  come  to 
convey  an  absolutely  different,  if  not  an  exactly  opposite, 
impression  from  that  which  it  originally  expressed. 

2.  Besides  the  name  there  are  fragments  of  the  ancient 
usage  preserved  in  various  churches. 

At  Milan  an  old  man  and  an  old  woman  §  bring  up  to  the 
altar  the  pitcher  and  the  loaves,  as  representing  the  ancient 
gifts  of  the  church. 

In  England  the  sacred  elements  are  provided  not  by  the 
minister,  but  by  the  parish. 

In  the  East  ahvays,  and  in  the  West  occasionally,  there  is 
the  distribution  amongst  the  congregation  of  the  bread,  from 
which  the  consecrated  food  is  taken  under  the  name  of 
"eulogia" — "blessed  bread."  Eulogia  is  in  fact  another 
name  for  Eucharistia. 

There  lingered  in  the  fifth  century  the  practice  of  invoking 
the  name  of  Christ  whenever  they  drank, ||  and  Gregory  of 


*  The  first  certain  use  of  the  word  is  in  Ambrose  (Sermon  34). 
+  Missus  is  a  "  course  "  (Capitolinus  in  Pertinax,  c.  12;  Lampridius  in  Ela- 
i/abalus,  c  30),  as  in  the  French  mets,  entremets. 
X  Crabb  Robinson,  in  Archoeologia,  xxvi.  342-53. 
S  Bona,  Rer.  Lit.  i.  10.  1  Greg.  Naz.  Hist.  iv.  84;  Sozomeu,  Hist.  i.  17. 


THE  EUCHARIST  IN  THE  EARLY  CHURCH.       41 

Tours  describes  the  act  of  eating  and  drinking  together  as  a 
kind  of  sacred  pledge  or  benediction.* 

The  order  in  the  Church  of  England  and  in  the  Roman 
basilicas  is  that  the  priest  is  not  to  communicate  alone. 

The  practice  in  the  Eastern  and  Roman  Catholic  Church  of 
the  priest  commuuicating  daily  is  a  relic  of  the  time  when  it 
was  a  daily  event.  It  had  been  gradually  restricted  to  the  first 
day  of  the  week,  but  traces  of  its  continuance  on  other  days  are 
never  altogether  absent.  It  is  now  continued  partly  as  a  form, 
partly  perhaps  from  a  sense  of  its  necessity.  But  the  practice 
has  its  root  in  the  original  intention  of  its  being  the  daily  meal.f 

II.  Another  part  of  the  original  idea,  both  as  de-  ^g  evening 
rived  from  the  first  institution  and  also  from  this  character, 
festive   social    character,    was   that   it   was   an   evening  meal. 
Such  was  evidently  the  case  at  Corinth  and  at  Troas. 

This  also  is  still  preserved  in  its  name,  " Supper,"  dsiTtvov, 
Coina,  la  Sainte  Cine,  Abendmahl.  The  6eh]0v  (supper)  of 
the  Greeks  was  especially  contrasted  with  the  apiorov  (dinner, 
lunch),  or  midday  meal,  as  being  in  the  evening,  usually  after 
sunset,  corresponding  to  the  Homeric  doftTtvov.  The  coena  of 
the  Romans  was  not  quite  so  late,  but  was  certainly  in  the 
afternoon.  The  word  "  supper  "  in  English  has  never  had  any 
other  meaning.  Of  this  usage,  one  trace  is  the  use  of  candles, 
lighted  or  unlighted.  Partly  it  may  have  originated  m  the 
necessity  of  illuminating  the  darkness  of  the  catacombs,  but 
probably  its  chief  origin  is  their  introduction  at  the  evening 
Eucharist.  The  practice  of  the  nightly  Communion  lingered  till 
the  fifth  century  in  the  neighborhood  of  Alexandria,^  and  in 
the  Thebaid,  and  in  North  Africa  on  Maundy  Thursday,  but 
as  a  general  rule  it  Avas  changed  in  the  second  century  to  an 
early  hour  in  the  morning,^  perhaps  to  avoid  possible  scan- 
dals— and  thus  what  had  been  an  accidental  deviation  from 
the  original  intention  has  become  a  sacred  regulation,  which 
by  some  Christians  is  regarded  as  absolutely  inviolable. || 

*  Hist.  vi.  5;  viii.  2. 

+  This  is  proved  from  the  passages  cited  in  Freeman's  Principles  of  Divine 
Service,  i.  180-90,  of  which  the  object  is  to  show  the  reverse. 

J  CjTJrian,  Ep.  63;  Socrates,  v.  22;  Sozomen.  iv.  22;  Augustine,  Ep.  118. 

§  Plin.  Ep.  X.  97;  Const.  Apost.  ii.  39;  TertuUian,  De  Fugd  in  Pers.  14;  De 
Co?-.  3;  Minutius  Felix,  8.  There  were  still  nocturnal  masses  till  the  time  of 
Pius  V.  (Bona,  i.  211). 

II  It  is  a  curious  fact  that  the  practice  of  "evening  communions"  in  the 


42  CHBI8TIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

III.  The  posture  of  the  guests  at  the  sacred  meal  must  have 
been  kneeling,  standing,  sitting,  or  recumbent.  Of  these  four 
positions  no  single  Church  practises  that  which  cer- 
tainly was  the  original  one.  It  is  quite  certain  that 
at  the  original  institution,  the  couches  or  divans  were  spread 
round  the  upper  chamber,  as  in  all  Eastern — it  may  be  said, 
in  all  Roman  houses ;  and  on  these  the  guests  lay  reclined, 
three  on  each  couch.  This  posture,  which  probably  continued 
throughout  the  Apostolic  age,  is  now  observed  nowhere.*  Even 
the  famous  pictures  which  bring  it  before  us  have  almost  all 
shrunk  from  the  ancient  reality.  They  dare  not  be  so  bold  as 
the  truth.  One  painter  only — Poussin — has  ventured  to  de- 
lineate the  event  as  it  actually  occurred. j- 

The  next  posture  is  sitting,  and  is  the  nearest  approach  in 
spirit,  though  not  in  form,  to  the  original  practice  of  reclin- 
ing. It  has  since  disappeared  everywhere  with  two  excep- 
tions. The  Presbyterian  Churches  receive  the  Communion 
sitting,  by  way  of  return  to  the  old  practice.  The  Pope  for 
many  centuries  also  received  it  sitting,  probably  by  way  of 
direct  continuation  from  ancient  times.  It  is  disputed 
whether  he  does  so  now.  It  would  seem  that  about  the 
fifteenth  century  he  exchanged  the  posture  for  one  half  sit- 
ting, half  standing,  just  as  in  the  procession  of  Corpus  Christi 
he  adopts  a  posture  in  which  he  seems  to  kneel  but  really 
sits.J 

The  next  posture  is  that  which  indicates  the  transition  from 
the  social  meal  to  the  religious  ordinance.  It  is  the  attitude 
of  standing,  which  throughout  the  East,  as  in  the  Apostolic 
and  Jewish  Church,  is  the  usual  posture  of  prayer.  This  is 
preserved  in  the  AVestern  Chui'ch  only  in  the  attitude  of  the 
celebrating  priest,  who  in  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  remains 
standing.  AVhether  in  the  English  Church  the  rubric  enjoins 
the  clergyman  to  stand  or  to  kneel  while  receiving  has  been 
much  disputed.     If  the  former,  it  is  then  in  conformity  with 


Chui-ch  of  England  is  said  to  have  been  originated  by  the  High  Church  partv, 
to  whom  it  has  now  become  the  most  offensive  of  all  deviations  from  the  ordi- 
nary usage. 

*  The  words  arcKtiTO— araKei/aeVtoi/— ai/eTreo-e  (Matt.  xxvi.  4;  Mark  xiv.  18;  Luke 
xxii.  14;  John  xiii.  23,  28)  are  decisive. 

t  There  is  also  a  quite  modern  representation  of  the  same  kind  in  the  altar- 
piece  of  a  church  in  Darlington. 

X  Tiie  question  is  discussed  at  ieugtli  In  the  chapter  ou  tht  Pop: 


THE  EUCHARIST  IN  THE  EARLY  CHURCH.       43 

the  ancient  usage  of  the  Roman  Church ;  if  the  latter,  it  is  in 
conformity  with  modern  usage. 

The  fourth  is  the  posture  of  kneeUng.  This,  which  pre- 
vails amongst  all  members  of  the  English  Church,  and  amongst 
lay  members  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  is  the  most 
modern  of  all.  It  expresses  reverence,  in  the  most  suitable 
way  for  Western  Christians ;  but  all  trace  of  the  original,  fes- 
tive, Oriental  character  of  the  ordinance  is  altogether  super- 
seded by  it. 

We  now  come  to  the  sacred  elements. 

IV.  The  lamb,  the  bitter  herbs  of  the  first  Paschal  feast,  if 
they  were  retained  at  all  in  the  Apostolic  times,  soon  disap- 
peared. It  was  not  on  these,  but  on  the  homely,  universal 
elements  of  the  bread  and  wine  that  the  First  Founder  of  the 
ordinance  laid  the  whole  stress. 

The  original  bread  of  the  original  institution  was  not  a  loaf, 
but  the  Paschal  cake — a  large  round  thin  biscuit,  such  as  may 
be  seen  every  Easter  in  Jewish  houses.  "  He 
broke  the  bread,"  "  the  breaking  of  bread,"  is  far 
more  suitable  to  this  than  to  a  loaf.  Of  this  form  the  trace 
remains,  reduced  to  the  smallest  particle,  in  the  wafer*  as  used 
in  the  Roman  and  Lutheran  Churches.  It  may  be  doubted, 
however,  whether  they  took  it  direct  from  the  Paschal  cake — 
first,  because  the  Greek  Churches,  which  are  more  tenacious 
of  ancient  usages  than  the  Latin,  have  not  done  so ;  secondly, 
because  the  round  form  is  sufficiently  accounted  for  by  the 
fact  that  the  bread  as  used  by  the  ancient  world  (as  seen  in 
the  bakers'  shops  at  Pompeii  and  also  in  the  paintings  of  the 
catacombs)  was  in  the  shape  of  round  flat  cakes.  It  is  also 
alleged  (though  this  is  doubtful)  that  the  common  bread  of 


*  A  long  argument  was  maintained  in  an  English  newspaper  to  repudiate 
the  validity  of  the  Roman  Sacrament,  on  the  ground  that  its  wafers  were 
made  not  of  bread  but  of  paste.  A  curious  example  of  an  adventitious 
sacreduess  attaching  itself  to  a  particular  form  of  Sacramental  bread  is  to  be 
found  in  the  use  of  "shortbread,"  instead  of  the  ordinary  leavened  or  un- 
leavened bread,  amongst  the  "hill  men"  of  Scotland.  "I  myself,"  writes  a 
well-informed  minister  of  the  Church  of  Scotland,  "thirty  years  ago  assisted 
at  an  open-air  Communion  in  the  parish  of  Dairy,  in  Galloway,  where  this 
had  been  the  custom  from  time  immemorial.  The  minister's  wife  sent  so 
many  pounds  of  fresh  butter  to  a  distant  baker,  and  received  back,  prepara- 
tory to  the  Communion,  so  many  cakes  of  'shortbread,'  i.e.,  brittle  bread, 
which  was  kept  nearly  as  carefully  as  a  Roman  Catholic  would  keep  his 
wafer." 


44  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

the  poor  m  early  times  was  in  the  West  unleavened,  whereas 
in  the  East  it  was  leavened.  There  are  some  parts  of  the 
Greek  Church  where  the  use  of  leavened  bread  is  justified  by 
the  assertion  that  they  have  an  actual  piece  of  the  very  loaf 
used  at  the  Last  Supper,  and  that  it  is  leavened.* 

This  peculiarity  of  form  is  an  illustration  of  two  general 
principles.  First,  it  is  evident  that  the  Roman  and  Lutheran 
Churches,  by  adhering  to  the  literal  form  of  the  old  institution, 
have  lost  its  meaning;  and  the  Reformed  Churches,  whilst 
certainly  departing  from  the  original  form,  have  preserved  the 
meaning.  The  bread  of  common  life,  which  was  in  the  three 
first  centuries  represented  by  the  thin  unleavened  cake,  is  now 
represented  by  the  ordinary  loaf.  The  mystical  fancy  of  the 
Middle  Ages  which  attached  to  the  wafer  is  in  fact  founded 
on  that  which  was  once  the  most  ordinary  form  of  food. 
Secondly,  the  fierce  controversy  which  broke  out  afterwards 
between  the  Greek  and  Latin  Churches  on  the  question 
whether  the  bread  should  be  leavened  or  unleavened  arose,  in 
the  first  instance,  out  of  the  most  trivial  divergence  of  an 
usage  of  ordinary  life. 

The  ivine  in  the  original  institution  was  (as  we  know  from 
the  Paschal  Supper)  arranged  in  two,  three,  or  sometimes  four 
cups,  or  rather  bowls.  In  this  bowl  was  the  wilie 
of  Palestine  mixed  with  water.  The  water  is  not 
expressly  mentioned  either  in  the  account  of  the  original 
institution  or  in  the  earliest  accounts  of  the  primitive  Com- 
munion ;  but  it  was  beyond  question  there,  in  accordance  with 
the  universal  practice  of  the  ancient  world.  To  drink  winef 
without  water  was  like  drinking  pure  brandy  now.  The  name 
for  a  drinking  goblet  was  uparrjp,  which  means  a  "mixing" 
vessel.  To  this  day  wine  in  modern  Greek  is  called  jcpaffl, 
"the  mixed." 

The  deviations  from  the  original  use  of  the  cup  are  instruc- 
tive from  their  variety.  Not  a  single  Church  now  communi- 
cates in  the  form  in  which  it  was  originally  given.  The 
Reformed  Churches,  on  the  same  principle  as  that  on  which 


*  Pashley's  Crete,  i.  316. 

+  Thus  in  the  Syro-Jacobitic  liturgy  (see  Neale's  Translations  of  Primitive 
Liturgies,  pp.  202,  223).  it  is  said  He  "temperately  and  moderately"  mingled 
the  wine  ana  water.    It  is  also  mentioned  m  Justin  Martyr,  Apol.  c.  67. 


THE  EUCHARIST  IN  THE  EABLT  CHURCH.       45 

they  have  adopted  a  common  loaf  instead  of  a  thin  -wafer,  have 
dropped  the  water.  The  Greek  Churches  have  mixed  the 
bread  with  the  wine.  The  Roman  Churches  have  dropped  the 
use  of  the  cup  altogether  except  for  the  officiating  priest.  It 
was  an  innovation  which  spread  slowly,  and  which  but  for  the 
Reformation  would  have  become  universal,  except  in  a  few 
curious  instances  in  which  the  original  practice  continued. 
The  King  of  France  always  took  the  cup.  The  Bohemians* 
extorted  the  use  of  it  from  the  Pope.  The  laity  in  England 
were  long  conciliated  by  ha\dng  unconsecrated  Avine.  The 
Abbot  of  Westminster  always  administered  it  to  the  King  and 
Queen  at  the  coronation.  And  in  the  three  northern  churches  f 
of  Jarrow,  Monkwearmouth,  and  Norham  it  was  given  till 
lolS.t 

There  remains  one  other  usage,  more  doubtful  perhaps  but 
exceedingly  interesting,  and  from  which  the  variation  has  been 
of  the  same  kind  as  those  we  have  noticed.  In  t,. 
ancient  times  a  meal,  even  of  bread,  was  not  thought 
complete  without  fish  {pipov)  whenever  it  could  be  had. 
"  Bread  and  fish "  went  together  like  "  bread  and  cheese  "  or 
"bread  and  butter"  in  England,  or  (as  we  have  just  observed) 
like  "  wine  and  water  "  in  the  old  classical  world.  Meat  Avas 
the  exception  and  fish  §  the  rule.  And  accordingly,  if  not  in 
the  original  institution  of  the  Last  Supper,  yet  in  those  indica- 
tions of  the  first  continuation  of  it  which  are  contained  in  the 
last  chapters  of  St.  Luke  and  St.  John,  fish  is  always  mentioned 
with  bread  as  part  of  the  sacred  meal.  Li  the  local  traditions 
of  the  Roman  peasants — many  of  them  no  doubt  mere  plays 
of  fancy,  yet  some  probably  imbued  with  the  continuous  tra- 
ditions of  antiquity — it  is  said  that  when  Jesus  Christ  came  to 
the  house  of  an  old  woman  and  asked  for  food,  she  answered, 
"There  is  a  little  fish"  (it  was  a  little  fish,  "that  is  not  so  long 
as  my  hand,"  said  the  peasant)  "  and  some  crusts  of  bread 
which  they  gave  me  at  the  eating-house  for  charity,  and  this 


*  Two  chalices  remain  in  one  of  the  Bohemian  churches  (and  that  Protes- 
tant), which  were  carried  at  the  head  of  the  Hussite  armies. 

t  Blunt's  Reformation,  p.  34. 

t  The  Wesleyans  in  the  Sandwich  Islands  celebrated  the  Eucharist  with 
treacle  instead  of  wine,— there  being  no  vines,— and  were  opposed  by  the 
Quakers  on  principle.    I  owe  this  to  the  late  Count  Strelecski. 

§  Bekker's  Charicles,  323,  334. 


46  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

flask  of  wine  and  water  which  they  gave  me  there."  *  Further, 
the  early  representations  of  the  Sacred  Supper  (whether  we 
call  it  Eucharist  or  Agape)  which  appear  in  the  catacombs,  al- 
most always  include  fishes — sometimes  placed  on  the  cakes  of 
bread,  sometimes  on  a  platter  by  itself.  It  is  almost  impos- 
sible to  resist  the  inference  which  has  been  drawn,  that  this  too 
was  part  of  the  primitive  celebration.  It  was  a  part  which 
would  be  doubly  cherished,  a  recollection  not  only  of  the  upper 
chamber  of  Jerusalem,  but  of  the  still  more  sacred  shores  of 
the  Lake  of  Gennesareth.f  There  was  in  the  Middle  Ages  a 
fish  called  "  the  Paschal  pickerel,"  from  the  tradition  that  the 
Lord  had  in  the  Last  Supper  substituted  a  fish  for  the  Paschal 
lamb.  J  In  the  Cathedral  of  Salerno  there  is  a  picture  of  the 
Last  Supper  (in  the  sacristy)  with  a  fish.  It  disappeared  from 
the  Christian  riionuments  altogether  at  the  end  of  the  fifth 
century,  and  is  common  only  in  the  second  and  third.  It  has 
now  entirely  vanished,  and  the  recollection  of  it  has  been 
obliterated  by  the  symbolism  to  which  it  has  given  birth.  Just 
as  the  ordinary  form  of  the  cake  furnished  occasion  for  the 
fanciful  interpretation  that  it  was  the  likeness  of  the  thirty 
pieces  for  which  the  Betrayal  was  made,  and  the  water  and 
wine  (the  ordinary  mode  of  drinking  wine)  was  made  to  sym- 
bolize the  water  and  the  blood,  or  the  double  nature,  or  the 
two  Testaments,  so  the  fish  was  in  the  fourth  century  inter- 
preted by  a  curious  acrostic  to  be  our  Lord  himself — IrjGovi 
XpKjTo?  Osov  Tioi  2(£)TT/p.^  This  interpretation,  which 
first  appears  II  in  Optatus  of  Milevis  (a.d.  384),  was  not  known 
in  earlier  times,  and  was  very  imperfectly  recognized  even  by 
Augustine.  The  fish  itself,  if  as  we  may  suppose  it  formed 
2)art  of  the  original  and  primitive  ordinance,  is  one  of  those 
particulars  of  sacred  antiquity  which  are  gone  beyond  recall. 
Not  a  trace  of  it  exists  in  the  New  Testament.  It  is  gone  from 
all  celebrations  of  the  Eucharist,  as  the  water  from  the  Avine  in 
Protestant  celebrations,  as  the  wine  from  the  bread  in  Roman 
administrations. 

V.  One  more  trace  of  the  social  festive  character  of  tho 

*  Busk's  Folk  Lore  of  Rome,  174. 

t  Reiian,  V'ie  de  Jesus,  303;  Spic.  Solesmiense,  iii.  568, 

±  Gunton's  History  of  Peterborough,  p.  337. 

I  Northcote,  210-15. 

I  Wharton  Marriott's  Essay  on,  the  Fish  of  Autun. 


THE  EUCHARIST  IN  THE  EARLY  CHURCH.       47 

original  ordinance  was  the  table.  To  the  question  whether  it 
was  ever  called  an  altar  in  those  ages  we  will  return 
presently.  But  there  is  no  doubt  that  it  was  always 
of  wood,  and  that  the  mensa  or  rpa7re8,a  was  its  ordinary 
name.  In  the  representations  in  the  catacombs,  it  is  as  if  a 
circular  table.*  In  the  earliest  forms  of  churches,  whether  as 
in  the  small  chapels  in  the  catacombs,  or  as  in  the  great  basili- 
cas of  Rome,  or  in  the  Eastern  churches,  it  stood  and  stands  in 
front  of  the  apse.  This  in  Western  churches  was  superseded 
in  later  times  by  stone  structures  fastened  to  the  east  end  of 
the  church.  But  in  the  Protesant  churches,  both  Reformed 
and  Lutheran,  the  wooden  structure  and  the  detached  position 
were  retained,  and  in  the  English  and  Scottish  churches,  both 
Episcopal  and  Presbyterian,  wooden  tables  were  brought  at 
the  time  of  the  Holy  Communion  into  the  middle  of  the 
church.  There  was  only  this  difference  in  their  position  from 
that  in  the  Primitive  Church,  that  in  the  English  Church  they 
were  placed  lengthwise,  the  officiating  minister  standing  in  the 
middle  of  the  side  facing  the  people.  On  this  arrangement  all 
the  rubrics  are  founded,  and,  curiously  enough,  were  not  altered, 
when,  after  Laud's  time,  the  position  of  the  table  was  again 
brought  back  to  what  it  had  been  before,  the  Reformation. 
Deerhurst  church  in  Gloucestershire  alone  retains  for  it  the  po- 
sition which  was  given  in  the  time  of  Edward  YI.  Thus  while 
the  position  of  the  Holy  Table  in  England  is  now  conformable 
to  the  mediaeval  practice  of  the  Latin  Church,  the  rubric 
which  speaks  of  "the  north  side,"  which  is  no  longer  capable 
of  being  observed,  remains  the  sole  relic  in  our  service  of  the 
conformity  with  which  it  was  intended  to  be  brought  with  the 
primitive  usage. 

VI.  AVe  have  now  reached  the  last  trace  of  the  social,  and, 
as  it  may  be  called,  secular  character  of  the  primitive  Euchar- 
ist. We  pass  to  the  forms  by  which,  no  doubt  from  Tlie  posture 
the  first,  but  incveasino;  as  time  rolled  on,  the  relig-  andposition 
lous  or  sacred  character  with  which  it  had  been  ister. 
invested  was  brought  out  into  words,  and  in  doing  so  we  are  at 
once  brought  into  the  presence  of  all  that  we  know  of  the 
early  Christian  worship.     The  Liturgy,  properly  speaking,  was 

*  See  the  various  authorities  quoted  in  Renan's  St.  Paul,  266. 


48  CHBI8TIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

the  celebration  of  the  Holy  Communion.  The  worship  of  the 
early  Christians  gathered  round  this  as  the  nucleus.  We 
must  picture  to  ourselves  the  scene  according  to  the  arrange- 
ment which  has  been  clearly  described.  The  Bishop,  or  Pre- 
siding Minister,  as  he  is  called  by  Justin  Martyr,  is  on  his  lofty 
seat  behind  the  table,  overlooking  it,  facing  the  congregation, 
who  stood  on  the  other  side  of  it  in  front  of  him.  The  other 
ministers,  if  there  were  any — probably  Deacons — sat  or  stood 
in  a  semicircle  immediately  beneath  and  around  him.  This 
position  is  now  almost  entirely  lost.  The  Pope  to  a  certain 
degree  keeps  it  up,  as  he  always,  in  celebrating  mass,  stands 
behind  the  altar,  facing  the  people.  The  arrangements  of 
ancient  churches,  like  that  of  Torcello,  at  Venice,  though  long 
disused,  are  proofs  of  the  ancient  custom.  The  nearest  like- 
ness is  to  be  seen  in  the  Scottish  Presbyterian  Church,  where 
the  minister,  from  his  lofty  pulpit  behind  the  table,  addresses 
the  congregation,  with  his  elders  beneath  him  on  the  pulpit 
stairs,  or  round  its  base.  The  dress  of  the  bishop  and  clergy 
who  are  to  officiate,  except  by  mere  accident,  in  no  way 
distinguishes  them  from  the  congregation  in  front  of  them.* 
The  prayers  are  uttered  throughout  standing,  and  with 
outstretched  hands.  The  posture  of  devotion  Avas  stand- 
ing, as  is  the  universal  practice  in  the  East.  The  outstretched 
hands  are  open  in  Mussulman  devotions,  as  also  in  the  cata- 
combs. They  express  the  hope  of  receiving  into  them  the 
blessing  from  above.  Of  the  outstretched  hands  a  reminiscence 
was  very  long  present  in  the  benediction — inanibus  exten- 
sis\ — of  the  priest.  As  in  other  cases,  so  here,  when  the 
original  meaning  was  lost,  this  simple  posture  was  mystically 
explained  as  the  extension  of  the  hands  of  Christ  on  the  cross.J 
Of  this  standing  posture  of  the  congregation  which  still  pre- 
vails throughout  the  East,  all  traces  have  disappeared  in  the 
Western  Church,  except  in  the  attitude  of  the  officiating  min- 
ister at  the  Eucharist,  and  in  the  worship  of  the  Presbyterian 
Churches    always.      Its    extinction    is   the    more    remarkable, 

*  See  the  case,  as  discussed  by  Cardinal  Bona,  and  the  futility  of  the  argu- 
ments by  which  he  endeavors  to  refute  the  mass  of  authority  on  the  other 
side. 

t  Maskell,  p.  79.  The  last  trace  of  it  in  England  is  in  the  Life  of  St.  Dun- 
Stan. 

t  Ibid, 


THE  EUCEARI8T  IN  THE  EARLY  CHURCH.       49 

because  it  was  enjoined  hy  tlie  only  canon  of  tlie  Council  of 
Nicsee,  which  related  to  public  worship,  and  which  ordered 
that  on  every  Sunday  (whatever  license  might  be  permitted  on 
other  .days)  and  on  every  day  between  Easter  and  Pentecost, 
kneeling  should  be  forbidden  and  standing  enjoined.  In  the 
controversy  between  the  Church  and  the  Puritans  in  the  sev- 
enteenth century,  there  was  a  vehement  contention  w^hether 
kneeling  at  the  Sacrament  should  be  permitted.  It  was  the 
point  on  which  the  Church  most  passionately  insisted,  and 
which  the  Puritans  most  passionately  resisted.  The  Church 
party  in  this  were  resisting  the  usage  of  ancient  Catholic 
Christendom,  and  disobeying  the  Canon  of  the  First  (Ecumen- 
ical Council,  to  which  they  professed  the  most  complete  ad- 
hesion. The  Puritans,  who  rejected  the  authority  of  either, 
were  in  the  most  entire  conformity  with  both. 

YII.  Another  element  of  the  worship  was  the  reading  of 
the  Scriptures.  This  has  continued  in  most  Christian  Churches, 
but  in  none  can  it  be  said  to  occupy  the  same  sol-  -p  ^-  f 
emn  prominence  as  in  early  times,  when  it  was  a  the  Scrip- 
continuation  of  the  tradition  of  reading  the  Law  *^®s- 
and  the  Prophets  in  the  Jewish  synagogues.  A  trace  of  this 
is  visible  in  the  ambones—Xho.  magnificent  reading-desks  of  the 
early  Roman  churches,  from  which  the  Gospel  and  Epistle 
were  read.  Long  were  these  preseiTcd  in  Italian  churches 
after  the  use  of  them  had  been  discontinued.  Nothing  can  be 
more  splendid  than  the  ambones  in  the  church  at  Ravello  near 
Amalfi,  which  though  long  deserted  remain  a  witness  to  the 
predominant  importance  attributed  in  ancient  times  to  the 
reading  of  the  Bible  in  the  public  service.  In  the  French 
Church  the  very  name  of  the  lofty  screens  which  parted  the 
nave  from  the  choir  bears  testimony  to  the  same  principle. 
They  were  called  Jiibe,  from  the  opening  words  of  the  introduc- 
tion of  the  Gospel,  Jube,  Domine.  Those  that  still  exist,  like 
that  at  Troyes,  and  also  in  the  King's  Cohege  Chapel  at  Aber- 
deen,* by  their  stately  height  and  broad  platforms,  show  how 
imposing  must  have  been  this  part  of  the  sernce,  now  so 
humiliated  and  neglected.  Few  such  now  remain.  The  pas- 
sion for  revolutionary  equality  on  one  side  and  ecclesiastical 

*  At  Rheims,  the  Kin^s  of  France  were  crowned  upon  the  screen,  so  to  be 
visible  at  once  to  those  in  the  choir  and  those  in  the  nave. 

3 


50  CHBI8TIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

uniformity  on  the  other  have  done  their  worst.  They  have 
now  either  disappeared  altogether,  or  are  never  used  for  their 
original  purpose. 

In  England  the  huge  reading-desk  or  "pew"  long  supplied 
the  place  of  the  old  ambo,  but  that  is  now  being  gradually 
swept  away,  and  there  only  remains  the  lectern,  in  modern 
times  reduced  to  so  small  a  dimension  as  to  be  almost  invisi- 
ble. 

The  Prophets  of  the  Old  Testament,  the  Epistles  of  the  New 
— chiefly  St.  Paul — were  read  from  the  lower  step  of  the  stair- 
case leading  up  to  the  ambo.  In  some  churches  the  Gospel  of 
Thomas  and  the  first  Epistle  of  Clement  were  added.  The 
Gospel  was  from  one  of  the  four  Gospels,  and  was  read  from 
the  upper  step,  or  sometimes  from  a  separate  ambo.  Selections 
from  the  Scriptures  were  not  fixed;  each  reader  chose  them  at 
his  discretion.  There  is  an  instance  m  France  as  late  as  the 
fifth  century  of  their  being  chosen  by  opening  the  book  at 
hazard.  The  reader  was  usually  the  deacon  or  subdeacon ;  not, 
as  with  us,  the  chief  clergyman  present.  Of  this  a  trace 
remains  in  the  English  Church,  especially  in  the  Channel 
Islands,  where  laymen  may  read  the  lessons.  The  reader  of 
the  Gospel  if  possible  faced,  not  as  with  us  to  the  west,  but  to 
the  south,  because  the  men  sat*  on  the  south,  and  it  was  a 
fine  idea  that  in  a  manly  religion  like  Christianity  the  Gospel 
belonged  especially  to  them. 

VIII.  Then  came  the  address,  sometimes  preached  from  one 
of  the  ambones,  but  more  usually  from  the  Bishop's  seat 
behind  the  table.  It  was  called  a  "Homily"  or 
"  Sermon  " — that  is,  a  conversation ;  not  a  speech  or 
set  discourse,  but  a  talk,  a  homely  colloquial  instruction.  The 
idea  is  still  kept  up  in  the  French  word  conference.  It  i?  not 
possible  that  the  sermon  or  homily  should  ever  retiirn  to  its 
original  meaning.  But  it  is  well  for  us  to  remember  what  that 
meaning  was.  It  was  the  talking,  the  conversation,  of  one 
Christian  man  with  another:  the  practical  address,  as  Justin 
Martyr  says,  exhorting  the  people  to  the  imitation  of  the  good 
things  that  they  have  just  had  read  to  them  from  the  Bible; 
the  mutual  instruction  which  is  implied  in  animated  discussion. 

♦  Ordo  Bom,  ii.  8  (see  Dictionary  of  Antiquities), 


THE  EUCHARIST  IN  THE  EARLY  CHURCH.       51 

It  is,  in  short,  the  very  reverse  of  what  is  usually  meant  by  a 
"homily." 

Thus  far  any  one  might  attend  at  the  worship.  In  the 
Christian  Church  of  the  early  times,  before  infant  baptism  had 
become  common,  a  large  part  of  the  congregation  consisted  of 
unbaptized  persons,  and  when  the  time  for  the  more  sacred 
part  of  the  service  came,  they  were  warned  off.  There  is  a 
part  of  the  service  of  the  Eastern  Church  when  the  deacon 
comes  forward  and  says,  "The  doors,  the  doors!"  meaning 
that  all  who  are  not  Christians  are  to  go  away  and  the  doors 
are  to  be  shut.  But  they  do  not  go  away,  and  tlie  doors — at 
least,  the  doors  of  the  church — are  not  shut. 

IX.  The  solemn  service  opened  with  a  practice  which 
belongs  to  the  childlike  joyous  innocence  of  the  early  ages, 
and  which  as  such  was  upheld  as  absolutely  essen- 
tial to  the  Christian  worship,  but  which  now  has,  '^^^  ^^^' 
with  one  exception,  disappeared  from  the  West,  and  with  two 
exceptions  from  the  East.  It  was  the  Jciss  of  peace.  Justin 
mentions  it  as  the  universal  mode  of  opening  the  service.  It 
came  down  direct  from  the  Apostolic  time.*  Sometimes  the 
men  kiss  the  men,  the  women  the  women ;  sometimes  it  was 
without  distinction.  But  it  was  thought  so  essential  that  to 
abstain  from  it  was  a  mark  of  mourning  or  excessive  austerity. 
In  the  West  this  primitive  practice  now  exists  only  in  the 
small  Scottish  sect  of  the  G-lassites  or  Sandemanians.  In  the 
Latin  Church,  it  was  continued  till  the  end  of  the  thirteenth 
century,  and  was  then  transferred  to  the  close  of  the  servdce. 
In  its  place  was  then  substituted  a  piece  of  the  altar  furniture 
called  a  Pax,  and  this  was  given  to  the  deacon  with  the  words 
'^  Pax  tibi\  et  ecclesice."  This  is  a  singular  instance  of  the 
introduction  of  a  purely  mechanical  and  mediaeval  contrivance 
instead  of  a  living  social  observance.^  The  only  trace  of  it 
remaining  in  the  English  service  is  the  final  benediction,  Avhich 
begins  with  the  words  "  The  peace  of  God."  In  the  Eastern 
Church  it  still  remains  to  some  extent.     In  the  Kussian  Church, 


*  1  Thess.  V.  26;  1  Cor.  xvi.  20;  2  Cor.  xiii.  12;  Rom.  xvi.  16;  1  Pet  v  14 

t  See  Renan's  St.  Paul,  262. 

JMaskell  116.  The  importance  of  the  "kiss"  as  a  token  of  reconciliation 
IS  Illustrated  by  the  importance  attached  in  the  contention  between  Henry  11 
and  Becketv  to  the  question  whether  "  the  kiss  "  had  fairly  been  given 


52  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

perhaps  in  other  Eastern  Churches,  the  clergy  kiss  each  other 
during  the  recital  of  the  Niccne  Creed,  to  show  that  charity 
and  orthodoxy  should  always  go  together,  not,  as  is  too  often 
the  case,  parted  asunder.  In  the  Coptic  Church,  the  most  prim- 
itive and  conservative  of  all  Christian  Churches,  it  still  con- 
tinues in  full  force.  Travellers  now  living  have  had  their  faces 
stroked,  and  been  kissed,  by  the  Coptic  priest,  in  the  cathedral 
at  Cairo,  whilst  at  the  same  moment  everybody  else  was  kiss- 
ing everybody  throughout  the  church.  Had  any  primitive 
Christians  been  told  that  the  time  would  come  when  this,  the 
very  sign  of  Christian  brotherhood  and  sisterhood,  would  be 
absolutely  proscribed  in  the  Christian  Church,  they  would  have 
thought  that  this  must  be  the  result  of  unprecedented  persecu- 
tion or  unprecedented  unbelief.  It  is  impossible  to  imagine 
the  omission  of  any  act  more  sacred,  more  significant,  more 
necessary  (according  to  the  view  which  then  prevailed)  to  the 
edification  of  the  service. 

X.  Then  came  the  offering  of  the  bread  and  wine  by  the 
people.  It  was,  as  we  have  seen,  the  memorial  of  the  ancient 
^   , .,  practice  of  the  contribution  of  the  Christian  com- 

Th« Liturgy.    ^        .,        ,  i  i        rpi 

munity  towards  a  common  meal,  ine  prayer  in 
which  this  was  offered  was  in  fact  the  centre  of  the  whole  ser- 
vice. This  is  the  point  at  which  we  first  come  into  contact 
with  the  germ  of  a  fixed  Liturgy.*  It  has  been  often  main- 
tained that  there  are  still  existing  forms  which  have  come  down 
to  us  from  the  first  century,  and  even  that  the  Liturgies  which 
go  under  the  names  of  St.  James,  St.  Clement,  and  St.  Mark 
were  written  by  them.  There  are  two  fatal  objections  to  this 
hypothesis.  The  first  is  the  positive  statement  \  of  St.  Basil 
that  there  was  no  written  authority  for  any  of  the  Liturgical 
forms  of  the  Church  in  his  time.     The  second  is  the  fact  that 

*  An  argument  often  tised  to  account  for  the  absence  of  Trritten  liturgies  is 
the  doctrine  of  "reserve."  an  argument  which  has  lieen  even  puslied  to  the 
extent  of  thus  accounting  for  the  absence  of  any  detaik>(i  account  of  I  lie  Sacra- 
ment in  the  New  Testament  or  in  the  early  Creeds.  (Masltell,  Preface  to  the 
Ancient  Lituryy,  pp.  xxviii.-xxxi.)  It  is  evident  that  the  same  feeling,  if  it 
operated  at  all,  would  have  prevented  such  descriptions  as  are  given  bj'  Justin, 
in  a  work  avowedly  intended  for  the  outside  world. 

t  De  Spiritu  Sancto,  e.  27.  The  passage  is  quoted  at  length  in  Maskell  (Pref. 
p.  xxvi. )  with  the  opinions  strongly  expressed  to  the  same  effect,  of  Renaudot 
and  Lebrun,  and  the  confirmatory  argument  that  liad  written  liturgies  existed 
I  hey  would  have  been  discoverable  in  the  time  of  the  Diocletian  per.secution. 
"  There  are  no  Liturgies,"  says  Lebnm,  "  earlier  than  the  fifth  century  "  (iii. 
1-17). 


THE  EUCHARIST  IN  THE  EARLY  CHURCH.       53 

whilst  there  is  a  general  resemblance  in  the  ancient  Liturgies 
to  the  forms  known  to  exist  in  early  times,  there  are  such 
material  variations  from  those  forms  as  to  render  it  impossible 
to  suppose  that  the  exact  representatives  of  them  anywhere 
exist.  Tliis  will  appear  as  we  proceed,  and  therefore  we  shall 
only  notice  the  details'  of  the  Liturgies  so  far  as  they  contain 
the  relics  of  the  earlier  state  of  things,  or  illustrate  the  changes 
which  have  brought  us  to  the  present  state  of  Liturgical  obser- 
vances. 

The  Prayer  was  spoken  by  the  Bishop  or  Chief  Presbyter, 
as  best  he  could — that  is,  as  it  would  seem,  not  wTitten,  but 
spoken.*  It  is  thus  the  first  sanction  of  extempore  prayer  in 
the  public  service  of  the  Church.  But  extempore  prayer 
always  tends  to  become  fixed  or  Liturgical.  If  Ave  hear  the 
usual  Prayers  in  the  Church  of  Scotland,  they  are  sure  to 
retain  on  the  whole  the  same  ideas,  and  often  the  very  same 
words.  Thus  it  was  in  the  early  Church,  and  thus  a  Liturgy 
arose. 

There  was  one  long  prayer,  of  which  the  likenesses  are  pre- 
served in  the  long  prayers  before  or  after  the  sermon  in 
Presbyterian  or  Nonconfonnist  churches,  the  Bidding  Prayer 
and  the  Prayer  of  Consecration  in  the  Church  of  England. 
The  main  difference  is  that  in  the  early  Church  this  prayer  was 
all  on  one  occasion,  namely,  at  the  time  of  the  consecration  of 
the  elements ;  in  the  Roman  and  in  the  English  Prayer  Book 
it  is,  as  it  were,  scattered  through  the  service. 

In  this  prayer  there  are  two  peculiarities  which  belong  to 
the  ancient  Church,  and  have  since  not  been  brought  forward 
prominently  in  any  church.  It  is  best  seen  in  the  Roman 
Missal,  which  incorporates  here,  as  elsewhere,  passages  quite 
inconsistent  with  the  later  forms  with  which  it  has  been  in- 
crusted. 

It  is  clear,  from  the  Missal,  that  the  priest  officiates  as  one 
of  the  people,  and  as  the  representative  of  the  people,  seeing 
that  throughout  the  Office  of  the  Mass  he  associates  the  people 
with  himself  as  concerned  equally  with  himself  in  every  prayer 
that  he  offers  and  every  act  that  he  performs.  Just  as  he 
imites  the  people's  prayers  with  his  own  by   the   use   of  the 

*  Justin,  Apol.  c.  67. 


54  CIIIilSTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

plural  forms,  "  We  pray,"  "  We  beseecli  Thee,"  instead  of  tlie 
singular,  so  in  the  most  solemn  acts  of  the  Eucharist,  after  the 
consecration  of  the  elements  as  well  as  before,  he  uses  the 
plural  form,  "  We  offer,"  that  is,  we,  priest  and  people,  offer ; . 
thereby  including  the  people  with  himself  in  the  act  of  sacrific- 
ing. And  this  is  made  still  more  clear  when  he  is  told  to  say, 
"  We  beseech  Thee  that  Thou  wouldest  graciously  accept  this 
offering  of  Thy  whole  family,  and  also  we  Thy  servants  and 
also  Thy  holy  people  offer  to  Thy  glorious  Majesty  a  pure 
sacrifice."  And  not  only  so,  but  the  attention  of  the  people 
is  called  to  it  as  a  fact  which  it  is  desirable  they  should  not  be 
allowed  to  forget.  Addressing  the  people  the  priest  says, 
"  All  you,  both  brethren  and  sisters,  pray  that  my  sacrifice  and 
your  sacrifice,  which  is  equally  yours  as  well  as  mine,  may  be 
meet  for  the  Lord."  And  so  in  the  intercessory  prayer  of 
oblation  for  the  living  the  language  which  the  priest  uses  care- 
fully shows  that  the  sacrificial  act  is  not  his  but  theirs. 
"  Remember,"  he  says,  "  Thy  servants  and  Thy  handmaids,  and 
all  who  stand  around,  and  who  offer  to  Thee  this  sacrifice  of 
praise  for  themselves  and  for  all  their  relations." 

But  there  is  the  further  question  of  what  is  the  chief  offer- 
ing which  is  presented.  The  offering  which  is  presented  is. 
The  offerins  throughout,  one  of  two  things :  first  the  sacrifice  of 
of  the  bread  praise  and  thanksgiving,  as  in  the  words  which  we 
an  wine.  J^aye  already  quoted ;  or  secondly,  the  gifts  of  the 
fruits  of  the  earth,  especially  the  bread  and  wine,  which  are 
brought  in,  and  Avhich  are  expressly  called  "  a  holy  sacrifice," 
and  "the  immaculate  host."  Every  term  which  is  applied  to 
the  elements  after  consecration  is  distinctly  and  freely  applied 
to  them  before.  What  is  done  by  the  consecration  in  the  Missal 
is  the  prayer  that  these  natural  elements  of  the  earth  may  be 
transformed  to  our  spiritual  use  by  the  blessing  of  God  upon 
them.  It  is  necessary  to  observe  that  the  sacrifice  offered, 
whether  in  the  early  Church  or  in  the  original  Roman  Missal, 
was  either  of  praise  and  thanksgiving,  which  wo  still  offer,  both 
clergy  and  people,  or  else  of  the  natural  fruits  of  the  earth, 
which  we  do  indeed  offer  in  name,  but  of  which  the  full  idea 
and  meaning  has  so  much  passed  out  of  the  minds  of  all 
Christians  in  modern  days,  that  we  seldom  think  of  it.  It  is 
one  of  the  differences  between  the  early  Church  and  our  own, 


THE  EUCHARIST  IN  THE  EARLY  CHURCH.       55 

which  it  is  impossible  to  recover,  but  which  it  is  necessary  to 
bear  in  mind,  both  because  the  idea  was  in  itself  exceedingly- 
beautiful,  and  because  it  does  not  connect  itself  in  the  least 
degree  with  any  of  our  modem  controversies.* 

The  ancient  form  expresses  in  the  strongest  manner  the 
goodness  of  God  in  Nature.  It  is  we  might  almost  say  a 
worship — or  more  properly,  an  actual  enjoyment  and  thankful 
recognition — of  the  gifts  of  Creation.  So  completely  was 
this  felt  in  the  early  times,  that  a  custom  prevailed,  which  as 
time  went  on  was  checked  by  the  increasing  rigidity  of  eccle- 
siastical rules,  that  not  only  bread  and  wine,f  but  honey, 
milk,  strong  drink,  and  birds  were  offered  on  the  altar ;  and 
even  after  these  were  forbidden,  ears  of  corn  and  grapes  were 
allowed,  and  other  fruits,  though  not  offered  on  the  altars, 
were  given  to  the  Bishop  and  Presbyters. 

All  this  appears  in  unmistakable  force  both  in  the  heathen 
and  the  Jewish  worship,  and  from  them  it  overflowed  into  the 
Christian,  and  received  there  an  additional  life,  from  the  ten- 
dency which,  as  we  have  seen,  runs  through  the  whole  of  these 
early  forms  to  identify  the  sacred  and  profane,  to  elevate  the 
profane  by  making  it  sacred,  and  to  realize  the  sacred  by 
making  it  common.  It  lingers  in  a  few  words  in  the  English 
Prayerfor  the  Church  Militant,  "the  oblations  which  we  offer," 
and  in  the  expression  "  It  is  very  meet  and  right  to  give 
thanks."  It  included  the  recollection  of,  and  the  prayers  for, 
the  main  objects  of  human  interest — the  Emperor,  the  army, 
their  friends  dead  and  living,  the  rain,  the  springs  and  wells 
so  dear  in  Eastern  countries,  the  rising  of  the  Nile  so  dear  in 
Egypt,  the  floods  to  be  deprecated  at  Constantinople.  The 
whole  of  their  common  life  was  mfide  to  pass  before  them. 
Nothing  was  "common  or  unclean"  to  them  at  that  moment. 
They  gave  thanks  for  it,  they  hoped  that  it  might  be  blessed 
and  continued  to  them. J 

There  is  a  representation  in  the  catacombs  of  a  man  and  a 
woman  joining  in  the  offering  of  bread.  The  woman,  it  is 
sometimes  said,  is  the  Church ;    but  if  so  this  confirms  the 


*  The  Mass  disoivned  by  the  Missal.    A  very  able  and  exhavistive  paper  In  the 
Madras  Times,  bj'  Bishop  Caldwell,  Oct.  1867. 
t  Apostolical  Canons,  2. 
t  See  Bunsen,  Christianity  and  Mankind,  vii.  24. 


56  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

same  idea.  The  bread  and  wine  are  still  in  Englandj^as  above 
noticed,  the  gifts  not  of  the  minister,  but  of  the  parish,  and 
this  offering  by  the  congregation,  which  prevailed  in  the 
Catholic  countries  of  Europe  generall^^  till  the  tenth  century, 
lingered  on  in  some  French  abbeys  till  the  eighteenth.  It  is 
this  offering  of  the  fruits  of  the  earth  to  which.  Cyprian  *  and 
Irenaeus  \  give  the  name  of  "  sacrifice."  It  is  probable  that 
the  tenacity  with  which  this  word  clung  to  these  outward 
elements  in  the  early  ages  was  occasioned  by  the  eagerness  to 
claim  for  Christian  worship  something  which  resembled  the 
old  animal  and  vegetable  sacrifices  of  Judaism  and  heathenism, 
and  that  its  comparative  disappearance  from  all  Christian  wor- 
ship in  later  times  in  like  manner  was  coincident  with  the 
disappearance  of  the  temples  and  altars  alike  of  Palestine  and 
of  Italy. 

This  offering  formed  the  main  bulk  of  the  prayer.  Then 
followed  what  in  modern  times  would  be  called  "  the  consecra- 
The  Lord's  tion."  The  earlier  accounts  of  the  Liturgy,  whether 
Prayer.  jjj  Justin  or  Irenseus,  agree  in  the  statement  that 

after  the  completion  of  the  offering  followed  an  invocation  to 
the  Spirit  of  God  "to  make  the  bread  and  wine  the  body  and 
blood  of  Christ."  But  in  what  did  it  consist?  Here  again 
seems  to  be  disclosed  a  divergence  of  which  very  slight  traces 
remain  in  any  celebrations  of  the  Eucharist,  whether  Protest- 
ant or  Catholic.  It  is  at  least  probable  that  it  consisted  of 
nothing  else  than  the  Lord's  Prayer.  This  was  the  immense 
importance  of  the  Lord's  Prayer;  not  as  with  us,  repeated 
many  times  over,  but  reserved  for  this  one  prominent  place. 
The  first  Eucharistic  prayer  was  amplified  more  or  less  accord- 
ing to  the  capacities  of  the  minister.  The  Lord's  Prayer  was 
the  one  fixed  formula.  It  was  in  fact  the  whole  "  liturgy " 
properly  so  called.  "  The  change  " — whatever  it  were  that  he 
meant  by  it — "the  change  of  the  bread  and  wine  into  the 
body  and  blood  of  Christ,"  says  Justin,  "  is  by  the  Word  of 
Prayer  which  comes  from   Him."  |     "  It  was  the  custom," 

*  Cyprian,  De  Op.  p.  203,  ed.  Tell.  (Palmer's  Antiquities,  ii.  8G). 

+  See  the  Pfaffian  fragment  of  IrenaMi.s  quoti'd  in  Arnold's  Fragmentson  the 
Church,  p.  129;  and  tliis,  with  all  the  other  passages  from  Irenajus  bearuig  on 
the  question  in  Bunsen's  Christinnity  and  Mankind,  ii.  424-20. 

i  Compare  Jnstin,  Apol.  (10;  Jerome,  Adv.  Pelag.  3:  "  Apostolos  quotidie 
Orationem  Domini  solitos  dioere."'    (Maskell,  Pref.  p.  xxxviii.)    See  also  Ain- 


THE  EUCHARIST  IF  THE  EARLY  CHURCH.       57 

say3  Gregory  the  First,  "of  the  Apostles  to  consecrate  the 
oblation  only  by  the  Lord's  Prayer."  There  is  a  trace  of  its 
accommodatioa  to  this  purpose  of  giving  a  moral  and  spiritual 
purport  to  the  natural  gifts  in  the  variation  recorded  by  Ter- 
tullian,  where,*  instead  of  "Thy  kingdom  come,"  it  is  "May 
Thy  Holy  Spirit  come  upon  us  and  purify  us."  It  is  also 
obvious  that  "  Give  us  this  day  our  daily  bread  "  would  thus 
gain  a  peculiar  significance.  "  Lead  us  not  into  temptation, 
but  deliver  us  from  evil,"  had  also  a  peculiar  stress  laid  upon 
it.j-  It  also  lingers  in  the  Consecration  Prayer  of  the  Eastern 
Church,  where  the  petition  for  the  coming  of  the  Spirit  is 
amplified,  and  made  the  chief  point  in  the  consecration.  In 
the  East  the  whole  congregation  joined  in  the  Lord's  Prayer,J 
and  thus  participated  in  the  consecration.  In  the  Coptic 
Church,  accordingly,  the  Lord's  Prayer  is  the  only  part  of  the 
service  which  is  recited  in  Arabic — the  vulgar  tongue.§  In 
the  Russian  Church  it  is  sung  by  the  choir ;  and  of  all  the 
impressive  effects  produced  by  the  magnificent  swell  of  human 
voices  in  the  Imperial  Chapel  of  the  Winter  Palace  of  St. 
Petersburg,  none  is  greater  than  the  recitation  of  the  Lord's 
Prayer  by  the  choir  without,  while  the  consecration  goes  for- 
ward within.  In  the  Mozaralnc  Liturgy  the  people  said  Amen 
to  every  clause  except  the  fourth,  where  they  said,  Quia  es 
Deus.\\  In  the  "West  the  priest  alone  recited  it.  But  both  in 
the  East  and  the  West  the  consecration  was  not  complete  till 
it  had  been  ratified  in  the  most  solemn  way  by  the  congrega- 
tion. For  it  was  at  this  point  that  there  came,  like  the  peal 
of  thunder,  the  one  word  which  has  lasted  through  all  changes 
and  all  Liturgies — the  word  which  was  intended  to  express 
the  entire,  truthful  assent  of  the  people  to  what  was  done  and 
said — Amen. 

Then  came  forward  the  deacons  and  gave  the   bread,  the 


broslaster,  De  Sacrameiitis,  iv.  4:  "consecrated  by  the  words  of  Christ." 
Bunsen,  vii.  15,  55;  ii.  177. 

*  Adv.  Marcion,  iv.  21. 

t  Cardinal  Bona  {Rer.  Lit.  i.  5)  and  Mr.  Maskell  (Preface,  pp.  xx.-xxii.) 
endeavor  to  attenuate  the  force  of  this  passage  by  quoting  passages  from 
Walafridus  Strabo  and  later  writers,  and  by  their  own  conjectures,  that  "  at 
least  the  words  of  tlie  institution  were  also  recited."  But  of  tliis  there  is  not 
a  trace,  either  in  Gregory  or  Justin.     Bunsen,  vii.  121. 

t  Ibid-  vii.  280. 

§  Renaudot,  Lit.  Or.  i.  2&i.  [  Le»-  Ancienui^is  Lituraivs,  p.  t>71. 

3* 


58  CmttSTIAN'  INSTITTTTIONa. 

water  and  tlie  wine  to  all  wlio  were  present,  and  tlien  to  those 
who  were  absent.  The  latter  half  of  the  practice  has  perished 
everywhere.  For  what  is  called  the  "  reservation,"  or  even 
taking  the  sacramental  elements  to  the  occasional  sick,  is  evi- 
dently a  totally  different  practice  from  that  of  enabling  the 
absent  members  of  the  community  to  join  in  the  ordinance  itself. 

These  are  the  original  elements  of  the  Christian  Liturgy. 
The  Lord's  Prayer,  which  was  thus  once  conspicuous,  has  lost 
its  place.  In  the  Roman  Church,  as  well  as  the  Eastern,  in 
spite  of  the  efforts  of  Gregory  the  Great,  it  now  follows  the 
Prayer  of  Consecration.*  In  the  Clementine  Liturgy  it  is 
oniitted  altogether. j-  In  the  first  English  Liturgy  of  Edward 
VI.,  as  in  that  introduced  by  Laud  into  Scotland,  it  occurs 
after  the  Prayer  of  Consecration,  but  still  before  the  admin- 
istration. In  the  present  Liturgy  it  is  separated  from  the 
Consecration  Prayer  altogether ;  though  on  the  other  hand,  as 
if  to  give  it  more  dignity,  it  is  twice  repeated. 

The  sacramental  words  have  passed  through  three  stages : 
first,  the  Lord's  Prayer;  then  in  the  East,  the  Prayer  of  Invo- 
cation ;  then  in  the  West,  the  words  of  institution.  J  There 
is  a  spiritual  meaning  in  each  of  these  three  forms.  The 
original  form  was  the  most  spiritual  of  all.  The  Western 
form,  though  excellent  as  bringing  out  the  commemorative 
character  of  the  sacrament,  is  perhaps  the  most  liable  to  fall 
into  a  mechanical  observance.  This  has  been  reached  in  the 
fullest  degree,  in  the  opinion  which  has  been  entertained  in 
the  Roman  Church  that  the  words  must  be  recited  by  the 
priest  secretly,  lest  laymen  overhearing  them  should  indiscreet- 
ly repeat  them  over  ordinary  bread  and  wine,  and  thus  in- 
advertently transform  them  into  celestial  substances.  Such  an 
incident,  it  was  believed,  had  actually  taken  place  in  the  case 
of  some  shepherds  who  thus  changed  their  bread  and  wine  in 
a  field  into  flesh  and  blood,  and  were  struck  dead  by  a  divine 
judgment.§ 

*  Neale,  Introd.  570,  623. 

+  See  the  long  and  strange  arguments  to  account  for  this  in  Palmer,  i.  40, 
and  Maskell,  Pref.  xxxviii. 

i  The  Western  Church  has  not  used  a  Prayer  of  Invocation  for  a  thousand 
years.  How  exclusively  Western  is  the  notion  that  the  woi'ds  of  institution 
have  the  effect  of  con.secration  is  clear  from  the  authorities  quoted  in  Maskell, 
pp.  cv.,  cvi.,  cxv. 

§  See  tlie  authorities  quoted  in  Maskell,  Preface,  p.  ciii. 


THE  EUCUABIST  J/Y  THE  EABLY  CHURCH.       59 

This  is  the  summary  of  the  celebration  of  the  early  Sacra- 
ment, so  far  as  we  can  attach  it  to  the  framework  furnished 
by  Justin.  But  there  are  a  few  fragments  of  ancient  worship, 
which,  though  we  cannot  exactly  adjust  their  place,  partly 
belong  to  the  second  century.  Some  have  perished,  and  some 
continue.  In  the  morning  was  an  antistrophic  hymn  (perhaps 
the  germ  of  the  "  Te  Deum  ")  to  Christ  *  as  God,  and  also  the 
sixty-third  Psalm.  In  the  evening  there  was  the  hundred  and 
forty-first  Psalm.j-  The  evening  hymn  on  bringing  in  the 
candles,  as  now  in  Mussulman  countries,  is  a  touching  remi- 
niscence of  the  custom  in  the  Eastern  Church.  The  "  Sursum 
corda"  ("Lift  up  your  hearts"),  and  the  "  Holy,  holy,  holy," 
were  parts  of  the  hymns  of  which  we  find  traces  in  the 
accounts  of  all  the  old  Liturgies.  The  "  Gloria  in  excclsis " 
was  sung  at  the  beginning  of  the  service.  Down  to  the 
beginning  of  the  eleventh  century,  it  was  (except  on  Easter 
Day)  only  said  by  Bishops.J 

This  survey  brings  before  us  the  wide  diversity  and  yet 
unity  of  Christian  worship.  That  so  fragile  an  ordinance 
should  have  survived  so  many  shocks,  so  many  superstitions, 
so  many  centuries,  is  in  itself  a  proof  of  the  immense  vitality 
of  the  religion  which  it  represents — of  the  prophetic  insight  of 
its  Founder. 

*  Pliny,  Ep.  x.  97.  t  Bunsen,  ii.  50.  %  Maskell,  p.  25. 


60  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE    EUCHARISTIC    SACRIFICE. 

It  13  proposed  to  bring  out  in  more  detail  what  is  meant  by 
Sacrifice  in  the  Christian  Church.  In  order  to  do  this,  we 
must  first  understand  what  is  meant  by  it,  first  in  the  Jewish 
and  Pagan  dispensations,  and  secondly  in  the  Christian  dis- 
pensation. 

I.  We  hardly  think  sufficiently  what  was  the  nature  of  an 
ancient  sacrifice.  Let  us  conceive  the  changes  which  would 
be  necessary  in  any  church  in  order  to  make  it  fit  for  such  a 
ceremony.  In  the  midst  of  an  open  court,  so  that  the  smoke 
of  the  fire  and  the  odors  of  the  slain  animals  might  go 
up  into  the  air,  as  from  the  hearths  of  our  ancient  baro- 
nial or  collegiate  halls,  stood  the  Altar — a  huge  platform 
— detached  from  all  around,  and  with  steps  approaching  it 
from  behind  and  from  before,  from  the  right  and  from  the 
left.  Around  this  structure,  as  in  the  shambles  of  a  great 
city,  were  collected,  bleating,  lowing,  bellowing,  the  oxen, 
sheep,  and  goats,  in  herds  and  flocks,  which  one  by  one  were 
led  up  to  the  altar,  and  with  the  rapid  stroke  of  the  sacrificer's 
knife,  directed  either  by  the  kingT)r  priest,  they  received  their 
death-wounds.  Their  dead  carcasses  lay  throughout  the  court, 
the  pavement  streaming  with  their  blood,  their  quivering 
flesh  placed  on  the  altar  to  be  burnt,  the  black  columns  of 
smoke  going  up  to  the  sky,  the  remains  afterwards  consumed 
by  the  priests  or  worshippers  who  were  gathered  for  the 
occasion  as  to  an  immense  banquet,* 

This  was  a  Jewish  sacrifice.  This,  with  slight  variation, 
was  the  form  of  heathen  sacrifice  also.  This  is  still  the  form 
of  sacrifice  in  the  great  Mohammedan  Sanctuaryj  at  Mecca, 
This — except  that  the  victims  were  not  irrational  animals,  but 

♦  See  an  exhaustive  account  of  the  matter  in  Ewald's  Alterthumer,  pp. 
2&-84. 
t  Burton's  Pilgrimasje  to  Mecca. 


THE  EZrCHARISTIC  SACRIFICE.  61 

human  beings — was  the  dreadful  spectacle  presented  in  the 
sacred  inclosure  at  Coomassie,  in  Ashantee,  as  it  was  in  the 
Carthaginian  and  Phoenician  temples  of  old  time. 

11.  AH  these  sacrifices,  in  every  shape  or  form,  have  long 
disappeared  from  the  religions  of  the  civilized  world.  Already, 
under  the  ancient  dispensation,  the  voices  of  Psalm-  substitution 
ist  and  Prophet  had  been  lifted  up  against  them,  of  new  ideas. 
"  Sacrifice  and  meat-oflfering  Thou  wouldest  not;"  "  Thinkest 
thou  that  I  will  eat  bull's  flesh  or  drink  the  blood  of  goats ;" 
"  I  delight  not  in  the  blood  of  bullocks,  or  of  lambs,  or  of 
he-goats ;"  '*  I  will  not  accept  your  burnt-offerings  or  your 
meat-offerings,  neither  will  I  regard  the  peace-offerings  of 
your  fat  beasts." 

Has  sacrifice  then  entirely  ceased  out  of  religious  worship  ? 
And  had  those  old  sacrifices  no  spiritual  meaning  hid  under 
their  mechanical,  their  strange,  must  we  not  even  say  their 
revolting,  forms  ? 

In  themselves  they  have  entirely  ceased.  Of  all  the  forms 
of  ancient  worship  they  are  the  most  repugnant  to  our  feel- 
ings of  humane  and  of  Divine  religion.  But  there  was  in 
these,  as  in  most  of  the  ceremonies  of  the  old  world,  a  higher 
element  which  it  has  been  the  purpose  of  Christianity  to  bring- 
out.  In  point  of  fact,  the  name  of  "  Sacrifice"  has  survived, 
after  the  form  has  perished. 

Let  us  for  a  moment  go  back  to  the  ancient  sacrifices,  and 
ask  what  was  their  object.  It  was,  in  one  word,  an  endeavor, 
whether  from  remorse,  or  thankfulness,  or  fear,  to  approach 
the  Unseen  Divinity.  It  was  an  attempt  to  propitiate,  to 
gratify,  the  Supreme  Power,  by  giving  up  something  dear  to 
ourselves  which  was  also  dear  to  Him, — to  feed,  to  nourish, 
as  it  were,  the  great  God  above  by  the  same  food  by  which 
we  also  are  fed, — to  send  measages  to  him  by  the  smoke,  the 
sweet-smelling  odor  which  went  up  from  the  animals  which 
the  sacrificer  had  slain  or  caused  to  be  slain.  The  one  purpose 
which  is  given  after  every  sacrifice  in  the  first  chapter  of 
Leviticus  *  is  that  it  "  shall  make  a  sweet  savor  unto  the 
Lord." 

Now,  in  the  place  of  this  gross,  earthly  conception  of  the 

•  Lev.  i.  13,  27;  ii.  2,  12;  iil.  8,  26. 


62  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

approach  of  man  to  God,  arose  gradually  three  totally  differ- 
ent ideas  of  approaching  God,  which  have  entirely  superseded 
the  old  notion  of  priest  and  altar  and  victim  and  hecatomb 
and  holocaust  and  incense,  and  to  which,  because  of  their  tak- 
ing the  place  of  those  ancient  ceremonies,  the  name  of  sacri- 
fice has  in  some  degree  been  always  applied. 

1.  The  first  is  the  elevation  of  the  heart  towards  God  in 
prayer  and  thanksgiving.  In  the  ancient  Jewish  and  Pagan- 
p  ,    public  worship,   there  was,  properly  speaking,  no 

thanks-  prayer    and   no    praise.     Whatever    devotion    the 

giving.  people    expressed   was    only    through    the   dumb 

show  of  roasted  flesh  and  ascending  smoke  and  frag- 
rance of  incense.  But  the  Psalmist  and  Prophets  in- 
troduced the  lofty  spiritual  thought,  that  there  was 
something  much  more  acceptable  to  the  Divine  nature, 
much  more  capable  of  penetrating  the  Sanctuary  of  the  Un- 
seen,— than  these  outward  things, — namely,  the  words  and 
thoughts  of  the  divine  speech  and  intellect  of  man.  To  these 
reasonable  utterances,  accordingly,  by  a  bold  metaphor,  the 
Prophets  transferred  the  phrase  which  had  hitherto  been  used 
for  the  slaughter  of  beasts  at  the  altar.  In  the  141st  Psalm, 
the  Psalmist  says,  "  Let  the  lifting  up  of  my  hands  in  prayer 
be  to  Thee  as  the  evening  sacrifice,"  that  is,  let  the  simple 
peaceful  act  of  prayer  take  the  place  of  the  blood-stained 
animal,  struggling  as  in  the  hands  of  the  butcher.  In  the  50th 
Psalm,  after  repudiating  altogether  the  value  of  dead  bulls  and 
goats,  the  Psalmist  says,  "  Whosoever  offereth, — whosoever 
brings  up  as  a  victim  to  God, — thankful  hymns  of  praise,  he  it 
is  that  honoreth  Me."  In  the  51st  Psalm,  after  rejecting  alto- 
gether burnt-offerings  and  sacrifices  for  sin,  the  Psalmist  says, 
"  the  true  sacrifice  of  God,"  far  more  than  this,  "  is  a  broken 
and  contrite  heart."  This  was  a  mighty  change,  and  it  has 
gone  on  growing  ever  since.  The  psalms  of  the  Psalmists, 
the  prayers  of  the  Prophets,  took  the  place  of  the  dead  ani- 
mals which  the  priests  had  slain.  The  worship  of  the  Syna- 
gogue, which  consisted  only  of  prayer  and  praise,  superseded 
the  worship  of  the  Temple,  which  consisted  almost  entirely  of 
slaughtering  and  burning ;  and  the  worship  of  the  Christian 
Church,  which  consisted  also  only  of  prayer  and  praise,  super- 
seded both  Temple  and  Synagogue.    As  it  has  sometimes  been 


THE  EUCHARI8TIC  SACRIFICE.  63 

said  that  the  invention  of  printing  inflicted  a  deathblow  on 
mediaeval  architecture,  so  much  more  did  the  discovery,  the 
revelation,  of  prayer  and  praise,  kill  the  old  institution  of 
sacrifice. 

It  would  have  seemed  strange  to  an  old  Jewish  or  Pagan 
worshipper  to  be  told  that  the  Deity  would  be  more  intimately 
approached  by  a  word  or  a  series  of  words,  invisible  to  sense 
or  touch,  than  by  the  tangible,  material  shapes  of  fat  oxen  or 
carefully  reared  sheep.  Yet  so  it  is ;  and  however  much 
modern  thought  may  disparage  the  use  of  articulate  prayer,  yet 
there  is  no  one  who  will  not  say  that  the  marvellous  faculty  of 
expressing  the  various  shades  of  mental  feeling  in  the  grandest 
forms  of  human  speech  is  not  an  immense  advance  on  the  ir- 
rational, inarticulate,  mechanical  work  which  made  the  place  of 
worship  a  vast  slaughter-house. 

2.  Secondly,  in  the  place  of  the  early  sacrifices,  which  were 
of  no  use  to  any  one,  or  which  were  only  of  use  as  the  great 
banquets  of  a  civic  feast,  was  revealed  the  truth  charitable 
that  the  offerings  acceptable  to  God  were  those  efforts. 
which  contributed  to  the  good  of  mankind.  Thus  the  Prophet 
Hosea  tells  us  that  "  God  will  have  mercy  instead  of  sacri- 
fice." The  Proverbs  and  the  Book  of  Tobit  tell  us  that  sins 
are  purged  away,  not  by  the  blood  of  senseless  animals,  but  by 
kindness  to  the  poor.  Beneficent,  useful,  generous  schemes 
for  the  good  of  mankind  are  the  substitutes  for  those  useless 
offerings  of  the  ancient  world.  And  because  such  beneficent 
acts  can  rarely  be  rendered  except  at  some  cost  and  pain  and 
loss  to  ourselves,  the  word  "  sacrifice  "  has  gradually  been  ap- 
propriated in  modern  language  to  such  cost  and  pain  and  loss. 
"  Such  an  one  did  such  an  act,"  we  say,  "'  but  it  was  a  great 
sacrifice  for  him." 

3.  And  this  leads  to  the  third  or  chief  truth  which  has 
sprung  up  in  place  of  the  ancient  doctrine  of  sacrifices.  It  is 
that  the  sacrifice  which  God  values  more  than  seif-sacri- 
anything  else  is  the  willing  obedience  of  the  ^^^ 
heart  to  the  eternal  law  of  truth  and  goodness  —  the 
willing  obedience,  even  though  it  cost  life  and  limb, 
and  blood  and  suffering  and  death.  The  Psalmist,  after 
saying  that  "  Sacrifice  and  offering  for  sin  were  not  re- 
(juired/'  declared  that  in  the  place  thereof,  "Lo,  I  come  to  do 


64  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

Thy  will,  O  my  God."  The  Prophets  declared  that  to  obey 
was  better  than  sacrifice,  and  to  "  hearken  "  to  God's  laws  was 
better  than  the  fattest  portions  of  rams  or  of  oxen ;  that  "  to 
do  justly  and  walk  humbly  was  more  than  rivers  of  oil  or  ten 
thousands  of  burnt-offerings."  The  sacrifice,  the  surrender  of 
self,  the  fragrance  of  a  holy  and  upright  life,  was  the  innermost 
access  to  the  Divine  nature,  of  which  every  outward  sacrifice, 
however  costly,  was  but  a  poor  and  imperfect  shadow.  This  is 
the  true  food  fit  for  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God,  because  it  is  the 
only  sustaining  food  of  the  best  spirit  of  man. 

These  three  things  then,  the  lifting  up  of  the  heart  in 
words  of  devotion  to  God,  the  performance  of  kindly  and  use- 
ful deeds  to  men,  and  the  dedication  of  self,  are  the  three 
things  by  which  the  Supreme  Goodness  and  Truth,  according 
to  true  Religion,  is  pleased,  propitiated,  satisfied. 

III.  In  the  great  exemplar  and  essence  of  Christianity,  these 
three  things  are  seen  in  perfection. 

In  Jesus  Christ  there  was  the  complete  lifting  up  of  the  soul 
.  ,  to  God  in  prayer,  of  which  He  was  Himself  the 
in  Jesus  most  perfect  example,  and  of  which  He  has  given 
Chnst.  ^^g  ^i^g  most  perfect  pattern.      The  Lord's  Prayer 

is  the  sweet-smelling  incense  of  all  churches  and  of  all  na- 
tions. 

In  Jesus  Christ,  who  went  about  doing  good,  who  lived  and 
died  for  the  sake  of  man,  there  was  the  most  complete  benefi- 
cence, compassion,  and  love. 

In  Jesus  Christ,  who  lived  not  for  Himself,  but  for  others ; 
who  shed  His  blood  that  man  might  come  to  God :  whose  meat, 
whose  food,  whose  daily  bread  it  was  "  to  do  His  Father's  will," 
and  whose  whole  life  and  death  was  summed  up  in  the  words, 
"  Not  My  will,  but  Thine  be  done,"  was  the  most  complete  in- 
stance of  that  self-denial  and  self-dedication,  which  from  Him 
has  come  to  be  called  "self-sacrifice;"  and  thus  in  Ilim  all 
those  anticipations  and  aspirations  of  the  Psalmists  and  Proph- 
ets were  amply  and  largely  fulfilled.  Thus  by  this  true  sacri- 
fice of  Himself,  He  abolished  forever  those  false  sacrifices. 

IV.  But  here  arises  the  question,  How  far  can  any  sacrifice 
be  continued  in  the  Christian  Church  now  ?  This  has  been  in 
part  answered  by  showing  what  were  the  universal  spiritual 
truths  which  the  Prophets  put  in  the  place  of  the  ancient  sac- 


THE  EUCHARISTIC  SACRIFICE.  65 

rifices — and  how  these  spiritual   truths  were  fulfilled  ia  the 
Founder  of  our  religion.      But  it  may  make  the  The  sacn- 
whole  subject  more  clear  if  we  show  how  these  same  chrisWan'^ 
truths  are  carried  on  almost  in  the  same  words  by  Church, 
the  Apostles.     The  word  "  sacrifice  "  is  not  applied  in  any  sense 
in  the  Gospels,  unless,  in  the  seventeenth  chapter  of  St.  John, 
the  word  "  Consecrate  "  may  be  so  read.     But  there  are  several 
cases  in  the  other  books  in  which  it  is  employed  in  this  sense. 
All  Christians  are  "  kings  and  priests."  *     All  Christians  can 
at  all  times  offer  those  real  spiritual  sacrifices  of  which  those 
old  heathen  and  Jewish  sacrifices  were  only  the  shadows  and 
figures,  and  which  could  only  be  offered  at  stated  occasions,  by 
a  particular  order  of  men.      When  the  word  is  used,  it  is  used 
solely  in  those  three  senses  of  which  we  have  been  speaking. 

"  Let  us  offer,"  says  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebi'ews,  "  the  sacri- 
fice of  praise  always  to  God,  that  is  the  fruit  of  lips  giving 
thanks  to  His  name."  f  This,  the  continual  duty  of  thankful- 
ness, is  the  first  sacrifice  of  the  Christian  Church.  "  To  do 
good  and  to  distribute  forget  not "  (says  the  same  Epistle), 
"  for  it  is  with  such  sacrifices  |  that  God  is  well  pleased ;"  and 
again,  St.  Paul  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Philippians  says  of  the 
contribution  which  his  friends  at  Philippi  had  sent  to  him  to 
assist  him  in  sickness  and  distress,  that  it  was  "  the  odor  of 
a  sweet  smell,  a  sacrifice  acceptable,  well-pleasing  to  God." 
This,  the  duty  of  Christian  usefulness  and  beneficence,  is  the 
second  sacrifice  of  the  Christian  Church.  "  I  beseech  y(5u  to 
present  your  bodies  reasonable,  holy  and  living  sacrifices  unto 
God."  §  This  perpetual  self-dedication  of  our>;elves  to  the 
Supreme  Good  is  the  third  and  chief  sacrifice  of  the  Christian 
Chui'ch  always  and  everywhere,  and  it  is  also  the  sense  in 
which,  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Ephesians,||  Christ  is  said  to  have 
"  given  Himself  for  us  an  offering  and  a  sacrifice  to  God  for  a 
sweet-smelling  savor." 

In  these  three  senses  the  Christian  Religion,  whilst  destroy- 
ing utterly  and  forever  all  outward  sacrifices,  whether  animal 
sacrifice  or  vegetable  sacrifice  or  human  sacrifice,  is  yet,  in  a 
moral  and  spiritual   sense,  sacrificial  from   beginning  to   end. 

*  Rev.  i.  6.  t  Heb.  xiii.  15.  %  Heb.  xiii.  16. 

§  Rom.  xii.  1 ;  comp.  1  Pet.  ii.  5.  • 

II  Eph.  V.  a;  compare  Heb.  ix.  14;  x.  5-13. 


66  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

Every  position,  every  aspect  of  every  true  Christian,  east  or 
west,  or  north  or  south,  in  church  or  out  of  church,  is  a  sacri- 
ficial position.  Every  Christian  is,  in  the  only  sense  in  which 
the  word  is  used  in  the  New  Testament,  "  a  priest  of  good 
things  to  come,"  to  offer  up  "  spiritual  sacrifices  acceptable  to 
God  through  Jesus  Christ."  Every  domestic  hearth,  every 
holy  and  peaceful  death-bed,  every  battle-field  of  duty,  every 
arena  of  public  or  private  life,  is  the  altar  from  which  the 
thoughts  and  energies  of  human  souls  and  spirits  ought  to  be 
forever  ascending  to  the  Father  of  all  goodness.  We  are  not 
to  say  that  the  use  of  the  word  "  sacrifice  "  in  this  moral  and 
spiritual  sense  is  a  metaphor  or  figure  of  speech,  and  that  the 
use  of  the  word  in  its  gross  and  carnal  sense  is  the  substance. 
So  far  as  there  can  be  any  sacrifice  in  the  Christian  Religion, 
it  is  the  moral  and  spiritual  sense  which  is  the  enduring  sub- 
stance ;  the  material  and  carnal  sacrifice  was  but  the  passing 
shadow, 

V.  But  there  may  still  arise  an  intermediate  question,  and 
that  is — In  what  sense,  over  and  above  this  complete  and  ideal 
sacrifice  of  our  great  Example, — over  and  above  this  essential 
sacrifice  of  our  own  daily  lives, — in  what  sense  is  there  any 
sacrifice  in  our  outward  worship,  especially  in  the  Holy  Com- 
munion ? 

It  is  clear  from  what  has  been  said,  that  in  order  to  claim  any 
share  in  the  true  Christian  sacrifice,  whether  that  rendered 
once  for  all  by  Jesus  Christ,  or  that  offered  by  all  good  Chris- 
tians in  every  hour  of  their  lives,  any  sacrifice  in  our  outward 
worship  must  belong  to  one  or  other  of  these  three  essential 
characteristics  which  we  have  mentioned,  1.  Prayer  and  praise  ; 
2.  Beneficence ;  3.  Self-devotion  and  self-dedication. 

1.  The  Sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper  is  certainly,  as  its 
name  of  "  Eucharist "  implies,  as  it  is  called  in  the  English 
.^  Communion  Service,  "  a  sacrifice  of  praise  and 
of  thanks-  thanksgiving."  It  is  this  which  makes  us  say  in  a 
giving.  p,^j.|.   q£   ^|jg   service,   which    belongs   to  its   most 

ancient  fragments,  "  It  is  very  meet,  right,  and  our  bounden 
duty,  that  we  should  at  all  times  and  in  all  places,  but  chiefly 
now,  give  thanks  to  Thee."  And  in  the  ancient  services  of 
the  Church,  of  which  only  a  very  slight  trace  remains  in  our 
own,  or  in  any  Church  now,  this  thanksgiving  was  yet  further 


THE  EUGHABiaXIC  SACBIFIOE.  67 

expressed  by  the  Christian  people  bringing  to  the  table  the 
loaves  of  bread  and  the  cups  of  wine,  as  samples  of  the  fruits 
of  the  earth,  for  which  every  day  and  hour  of  their  lives  they 
wish  to  express  their  gratitude.  In  the  English  Church  this  is 
indicated  only  by  the  few  words  where  in  the  Prayer  for  the 
Church  Militant  vve  say,  "  We  [i.e.  not  the  clergyman,  but  the 
people)  offer  unto  Thee  our  oblations."  In  the  Roman  Church, 
this  and  this  only  was  what  was  originally  meant  by  the  sacri- 
fice, the  host,  or  offering ;  not  a  dead  corpse,  but  the  daily 
bread  and  wine  of  our  earthly  sustenance,  offered  not  by  the 
priest,  but  by  the  whole  Christian  congregation,  as  an  expres- 
sion of  their  thankfulness  for  the  gracious  kindness  of  God  our 
Father  in  His  beautiful  and  bountiful  creation. 

It  is  true  that  in  a  later  part  of  the  service,  the  bread  and 
wine  are  made  to  represent,  as  in  the  Last  Supper,  the  Body 
and  Blood,  that  is,  the  inmost  spirit  of  the  dying  Redeemer. 
But  at  the  time  of  the  service  when  in  the  Ancient  Liturgies 
they  were  offered  by  the  congregation  and  by  the  minister, 
and  when  they  were  called  by  the  name  of  "  sacrifice,"  or 
"  victim,"  they  represented  only  the  natural  products  of  the 
earth.  It  was  as  if  the  eaily  Church  had  meant  to  say — "  In 
Pagan  and  Jewish  times  there  were  human  sacrifices,  animal 
sacrifices.  In  Christian  times  this  has  ceased ;  we  wish  to 
express  to  God  our  thankfulness  for  the  daily  bread  that 
strengthens  man's  heart,  and  the  wine  that  makes  glad  our 
hearts,  and  we  express  our  gratitude  by  bringing  our  bread  and 
wine  for  the  common  enjoyment  and  joint  participation  of  the 
whole  Christian  community." 

2.  This  brings  us  to  the  second  idea  of  sacrifice,  that  is,  the 
rendering  of  acts  of  kindness  to  our  brethren.     The  offering, 
the  contribution  of  bread  and  wine   which  formed 
the  original  sacrifice  or  offering  of  the  Eucharist,  of  benefl- 
essentially  partook  of  this  idea,  because  the  Eucharist  ^®°'^^- 
in  those  early  times  was  the  common  festive  gathering  of  rich 
and   poor   in    the   same   social   meal,  to  which,  as  St.  Paul 
enjoined,  every  one  was  to  bring  his  portion.     And  further, 
with  this  practice,  of  which  almost  all  traces  have  disappeared 
from  all  modern  modes  of  administering  the   Lord's  Supper, 
there  was  united  from  the  earliest  times  the  practice  of  collect- 
ing alms  and  contributions  for  the  poor,  at  the  time  when  our 


68  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

Christian  communion  and  fellowship  with  each  other  is  most 
impressed  upon  us.  This  is  the  practice  which  is  called,  in  the 
English  Church  and  others,  the  offertory,  that  is,  the  offerings, 
and  which  is  urged  upon  us  in  the  most  moving  passages  that 
can  be  drawn  from  the  Scriptures  to  stir  up  our  Christian  com- 
passion. Here  again,  it  is  clear  that  the  sacrifice,  the  offering, 
is  made  not  by  the  priest,  not  by  the  minister,  but  by  the  con- 
gregation. It  is  not  the  clergy  who  give  alms  or  offerings  for 
the  people,  it  is  the  people  who  bring  alms  or  offerings  for  one 
another  or  for  the  clergy.  They  make  these  sacrifices  from 
their  own  substance,  and  in  those  sacrifices,  so  far  as  they  come 
from  a  willing  and  bountiful  heart,  God  is  well  pleased. 

3.  The  service  of  the  Sacrament,  in  whatever  form,  expresses 
the  sacrifice,  the  dedication  of  ourselves.  Even  if  there  were 
Thesacriflce  not  words  to  set  this  forth,  it  could  not  be  other- 
of  self.  wise.     Every  serious  communicant  does  at  least  for 

the  moment  intend  to  declare  his  resolution  to  lead  a  new  life, 
and  abandon  his  evil  self.  But  in  the  English  Reformed 
Church,  this,  the  highest  form  of  sacrifice,  is,  and  was  formerly 
much  more  than  in  the  present  form,  brought  out  much  more 
strongly  than  either  in  the  Roman  Cliurch  or  in  most  other 
Protestant  Churches.  There  is  a  solemn  Prayer  at  the  close 
of  the  service,  in  which  it  is  said,  "  Here  we  offer  and  present 
unto  Thee  ourselves,  our  souls  and  bodies,  to  be  a  reasonable, 
holy,  and  lively  sacrifice  unto  Thee."  But  in  the  first  Re- 
formed Prayer  Book  of  Edward  VI.,  this  true  spiritual  Prot- 
estant sacrifice  was  even  still  more  forcibly  expressed,  for  this 
dedication  of  ourselves  was  not  as  now,  at  the  close  of  the 
service,  but  was  introduced  into  the  very  heart  of  the  Conse- 
cration Prayer,  and  made  the  chief  and  turning-point  of  the 
whole  Liturgy.  It  was  this  on  which  so  much  stress  was 
always  laid  by  one  of  the  profoundest  scholars  and  the  most 
devout  men  of  our  time,  of  whom  one  of  his  friends  used  to 
say  that  he  was  essentially  a  Liturgical  Christian — the  late 
Chevalier  Bunsen.  It  is  this  which  is  present  in  the  Scottish 
and  the  American  Prayer  Books,  and,  contrary  to  the  usual 
opinion  entertained  of  them,  places  them  in  the  foremost  rank 
of  Protestant  forms  of  devotion.  In  this  Prayer  it  is  evident 
that  this  the  most  important  of  the  sacrifices  of  Christian 
Religion  is  not  offered  by  the  clergy  for  the  people,  but  is  the 


THE  EUCHABISTIC  SACRIFICE.  69 

offering  of  the  people  by  themselves ;  that  when  the  clergy- 
man says,  "  we  offer,"  he  speaks  not  of  himself  alone,  but  of 
himself  only  as  one  of  them,  with  them,  acting  and  speaking 
as  their  mouthpiece  and  representative,  and  they  speaking  and 
acting  with  him  and  for  him. 

These  are  the  three  ideas,  the  three  meanings  of  the  sacri- 
fice of  the  Eucharist.  There  is  no  other  sense  of  sacrifice  in 
the  Eucharist  than  these  three,  and  these  three  meanings 
absorb  all  others,*  No  doubt  the  realities  of  sacrifice  which 
they  are  intended  to  express  are  not  there  or  in  any  outward 
sign,  but  in  actual  life,  as  when  we  speak  of  "  a  heavy  sacri- 
fice," of  "  a  self-sacrifice,"  and  the  like.  But  the  outward  sign 
reminds  us  of  the  spiritual  reality,  and  often  in  the  Lord's 
Supper  the  two  are  brought  together. 

When  we  see  the  bread  and  wine,  the  gifts  of  the  parish  or 
people,  placed  on  the  Table,  this  should  remind  us  of  the  deep 
and  constant  thankfulness  that  we  ought  to  feel  from  morning 
till  evening  for  the  blessings  of  our  daily  bread,  of  our  happy 
lives, — perhaps  even  of  our  daily  sorrows  and  sicknesses  and 
trials. 

When  we  drop  into  the  plate  our  piece  of  gold  or  silver  or 
copper,  as  the  case  may  be,  this  prelude  of  the  Lord's  Supper, 
slight  though  it  be,  should  remind  us  that  the  true  Christian 
Communion  requires  as  its  indispensable  condition  true  Chris- 
tian beneficence ;  beneficence  exercised  not  it  may  be  at  that 
moment,  but  always,  and  wherever  we  are,  in  the  wisest,  most 
effectual  mode  which  Christian  prudence  and  generosity  can 
suggest. 

When  we  dedicate  ourselves  at  the  Table  in  remembrance 
of  Him  who  dedicated  Himself  for  us — when  we  come  to  Him 
in  order  to  be  made  strong  with  His  strength — the  act,  the 
words,  the  remembrance  should  remind  us  that  not  then  only, 
but  in  all  times  and  in  all  places  ought  the  sweet-smelling 
savor  of  our  lives  to  be  ascending  towards  Him  who  delights 
above  all  things  in  a  pure,  holy,  self-sacrificing  heart  and  wUl. 


*  By  a  strange  solecism  the  Eucharist  is  sometimes  called  "  a  commemora- 
tive sacrifice."  This  is  as  if  the  Waterloo  banquet  were  called  "  a  conimemo- 
orative  battle."  Still  the  sacrifice  of  Christ  which  it  commemorates  is  of  the 
same  kind  as  the  sacrifice  of  the  worsliippers,  viz. ,  the  sacrifice  of  a  spotless 
life  for  the  good  of  others. 


70  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

Other  ideas  no  doubt  there  are  besides  in  the  Eucharist. 
But  so  far  as  there  is  any  idea  of  sacrifice,  or  thanksgiving,  or 
offering  to  God,  whether  we  take  the  EngUsh  Prayer  Book,  or 
the  older  Liturgies  out  of  which  the  Prayer  Book  is  formed, 
it  is  the  threefold  idea  which  has  been  described,  and  not  any 
of  those  imaginary  sacrifices  which,  whether  in  the  English  or 
the  Roman  Church  or  in  other  churches,  have  been  in  modern 
days  engrafted  upon  it.  And  this  threefold  sacrifice  of  prayer 
and  praise,  of  generosity  and  of  self-dedication,  are  in  the 
Eucharist,  because  they  pervade  all  Christian  worship  and  life, 
of  which  the  Eucharist  is  or  ought  to  be  the  crowning  repre- 
sentation and  exemplification. 

Such  are  the  ideas  which,  imperfectly  and  disproportion- 
ately, but  yet  suflBciently,  pervade  the  early  service  of  the 
Eucharist. 


THE  REAL  PBESENCE.  71 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE    REAL    PRESENCE. 

It  might  have  been  thought  that  in  a  religion  like  Chris- 
tianity, which  is  distinguished  from  Judaism  and  from  Pagan- 
ism by  its  essentially  moral  and  spiritual  character,  no  doubt 
could  have  arisen  on  the  material  presence  of  its  Founder.  In 
other  religions,  the  continuance  of  such  a  presence  of  the 
Founder  is  a  sufficiently  familiar  idea.  In  Buddhism,  the 
Lama  is  supposed  still  to  be  an  incarnation  of  the  historical 
Buddha.  In  Hinduism,  Vishnu  was  supposed  to  be  from 
time  to  time  incarnate  in  particular  persons.  In  the  Greek 
and  Roman  worship,  though  doubtless  with  more  confusion  of 
thought,  the  Divinities  were  believed  to  reside  in  the  particu- 
lar statues  erected  to  their  honor ;  and  the  cells  or  shrines  of 
the  temples  in  which  such  statues  were  erected  were  regarded 
as  "  the  habitations  of  the  God."  In  Judaism,  although  here 
again  with  many  protestations  and  qualifications,  the  "  She- 
chineh  "  or  glory  of  Jehovah  was  believed  to  have  resided, 
at  any  rate  till  the  destruction  of  the  ark,  within  the  inner- 
most sanctuary  of  the  Temple.  But  in  Christianity  the  reverse 
of  this  was  involved  in  the  very  essence  of  the  religion.  Not 
only  was  the  withdrawal  of  the  Founder  from  earth  recognized 
as  an  incontestable  fact  and  recorded  as  such  in  the  ancient 
creeds,  but  it  is  put  forth  in  the  original  documents  as  a  neces- 
sary condition  for  the  propagation  of  His  religion.  "  It  is 
expedient  for  you  that  I  go  away."  "  If  I  go  not  away  the 
Comforter  will  not  come  unto  you."  Whenever  the  phrase- 
ology of  the  older  religions  is  for  a  moment  employed  in  the 
Christian  Scriptures,  it  is  at  once  lifted  into  a  higher  sphere. 
"The  temple"  of  the  primitive  Christian's  object  of  worship, 
"the  Altar"  on  which  his  praises  were  offered,  was  not  in  any 
outward  building,  but  either  in  the  ideal  invisible  world,  or  in 
the   living  frames   and  hearts  of   men.     There  are,   indeed, 


72  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

numerous  passages  in  the  New  Testament  which  speak  of  the 
continued  presence  of  the  Redeemer  amongst  His  people. 
But  these  all  are  so  evidently  intended  in  a  moral  and  spiritual 
sense  that  they  have  in  fact  hardly  ever  been  interpreted  in 
any  other  way.  They  all  either  relate  to  the  communion 
which  through  Ilis  Spirit  is  maintained  with  the  spirits  of 
men, — as  in  the  well-known  texts,  "I  am  with  you  always;" 
"  Where  two  or  three  are  gathered  together  in  my  name,  there 
am  I  in  the  midst  of  them ;"  "  I  will  come  to  you ;"  "  Come 
unto  Me,  all  ye  that  are  weary  and  heavy  laden," — or  else 
they  express  that  remai'kable  doctrine  of  Christianity,  that 
the  invisible  God,  the  invisible  Redeemer,  can  be  best 
served  and  honored  by  the  service  and  honor  of  those  amongst 
men  who  most  need  it,  whether  by  their  characters  or  their 
suffering  condition.  "  He  that  receiveth  you  receiveth  Me." 
"  Inasmuch  as  ye  have  done  it  unto  them,  ye  have 
done  it  unto  Me."  "  Ye  visited  Me."  The  Church — the 
Christian  community — is  "  His  body."  None  of  these  expres- 
sions have  been  permanently  divorced  from  their  high  moral 
signification.  No  controversy  concerning  the  mode  of  His 
presence  in  holy  thoughts,  or  heroic  lives,  or  afilicted  sufferers, 
has  rent  the  Church  asunder.  Stories  more  or  less  authentic, 
legends  more  or  less  touching,  have  represented  these  spiritual 
manifestations  of  the  departed  Founder  in  vivid  forms  to  men. 
We  have  the  well-known  incident  of  the  apparition  of  the 
Crucified  to  St.  Francis  on  the  heights  of  Laverna,  which 
issued  in  the  belief  of  the  sacred  wounds  as  received  in  his 
own  person.  AVe  have  the  story  of  Benvenuto  Cellini,  who, 
meditating  suicide  in  his  dungeon,  was  deterred  by  a  vision  of 
the  like  appearance,  from  which  he  is  said  on  waking  to  have 
carved  the  exquisite  ivory  crucifix  subsequently  transported 
on  the  shoulders  of  men  from  Barcelona  to  the  Escurial, 
where  it  is  now  exposed  to  view  in  the  great  ceremonials 
of  the  Spanish  Court.  We  have  the  conversion  of  the  gay 
Presbyterian  s(i!dier,  Colonel  Gardiner,  from  a  life  of  sin  to 
a  life  of  unblcniislied  piety  by  the  midnight  apparition  of  the 
Cross  and  the  gracious  words,  "  I  have  done  so  niucli  for  thee, 
and  wilt  thou  do  nothing  for  Me  ?"  Or  again,  in  connection 
with  the  other  train  of  passages  above  cited,  there  is  the 
beggar  who  received  the  divided  cloak  from  St.   Martin,  and 


THE  BEAL  PRESENCE.  -  73 

whom  the  saint  saw  in  the  visions  of  the  night  as  the 
Redeemer  showing  it  with  gratitude  to  the  angelic  hosts. 
There  is  the  leper  who,  when  tended  by  St.  Elizabeth  of 
Hungary,  and  placed  in  her  bed,  appeared  to  be  the  Man  of 
Sorrows,  represented  in  the  Vulgate  rendering  of  the  53d 
chapter  of  Isaiah  as  a  leper,  "  smitten  of  God  and  afflicted." 
There  is  the  general  Protestant  sentiment  as  expressed  in  the 
beautiful  poem  of  the  Moravian  Montgomery : 

A  poor  wayfaring  man  of  grief 
Hath  often  passed  me  on  my  way: 
I  did  not  pause  to  ask  His  name — 
Whither  He  went,  or  whence  He  came — 
Yet  there  was  something  in  His  eye 
That  won  my  love,  I  know  not  why. 

But  these  stories,  these  legends,  one  and  all,  either  con- 
fessedly exhibit  the  effect  produced  on  the  inward,  not  the 
outward,  sense;  or,  even  if  some  should  contend  for  their 
actual  external  reality,  they  are  acknowledged  to  be  rare, 
exceptional,  transitory  phenomena,  arising  out  of  and  repre- 
senting the  inner  spiritual  truth  which  is  above  and  beyond 
them. 

How  is  it  then,  we  may  ask,  that  the  Presence  in  the  Sac- 
rament of  the  Lord's  Supper  has  ever  been  regarded  in  any 
other  light  ?  How  is  it  that  the  expressions  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment which  bear  on  this  subject  have  been  interpreted  in 
a  different  manner  from  the  precisely  similar  expressions  of 
which  we  have  just  spoken  ? 

These  expressions,  one  would  suppose,  had  been  sufficiently 
guarded  in  the  original  context.  In  the  very  discourse  in 
which  Jesus  Christ  is  represented  as  first  using  the  terms 
which  he  afterwards  represented  in  the  outward  forms  of  the 
parting  meal, — speaking  of  moral  converse  with  Himself  under 
the  strong  figure  of  "  eating  His  flesh  and  drinking  His  blood," 
— it  is  not  only  obvious  to  every  reader  that  the  literal  sense 
was  absolutely  impossible,  but  He  himself  concluded  the  whole 
argument  by  the  words  which  ought  to  have  precluded  for- 
ever all  question  on  the  subject:  "  The  flesh  profiteth  nothing; 
it  is  the  spirit  that  quickeneth." 

This  assertion  of  the  moral  and  spiritual  character  of  the 
Presence  of  Christ  in  the  Sacrament,  as  everywhere  else,  has, 
as  we  shall  see,  never  been  wholly  obliterated.  The  words  of 
4 


74  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

Ignatius,  "  Faith  is  the  body  of  Christ,"  and  "  Charity  is  the 
blood  of  Christ;"  the  words  of  Augustine,  "Crede  et  mandu- 
casti,"  have  ever  found  an  echo  in  the  higher  and  deeper 
intelligence  of  Christendom.  But  not  the  less,  almost  from  the 
earliest  times,  and  in  almost  every  Church,  a  countercurrent  of 
thought  has  prevailed,  which  has  endeavored  to  confine  the 
Redeemer's  Presence  to  the  material  elements  of  the  sacred 
ordinance.  We  discover  the  first  traces  of  it,  although  vaguely 
and  indefinitely,  in  the  prayer  mentioned  by  Justin  Martyr, 
and  more  or  less  transmitted  through  the  ancient  liturgies, 
that  the  bread  and  wine  "  may  become  the  Body  and  Blood." 
We  trace  it  in  the  peculiar  ceremonial  sanctity  with  which  not 
only  the  ordinance  but  the  elements  came  to  be  invested,  dur- 
ing the  first  five  centuries.  We  see  it  in  the  scruple  which 
has  descended  even  to  our  own  time,  which  insists  on  fasting 
as  a  necessary  condition  of  the  reception*  of  the  Communion, 
in  flagrant  defiance  of  the  well-known  circumstances  not  only 
of  its  original  institution,  but  of  all  the  details  of  its  celebration 
during  the  whole  of  the  Apostolic  age.  We  see  it  again  in 
the  practice  (which  began  at  least  as  early  as  Infant  Baptism, 
and  which  is  still  continued  in  the  Eastern  Church)  of  giving 
the  Communion  to  unconscious  infants.  We  see  it  finally  in 
the  innumerable  regulations  with  which  the  rite  is  fenced 
about  in  the  Roman  Catholic,  the  Greek,  and  some  of  the 
Presbyterian  Churches,  as  well  as  in  the  theories  which  have 
been  drawn  up  to  explain  or  to  enforce  the  doctrine,  and  of 
which  we  will  presently  speak  more  at  length. 

But  in  order  to  do  this  effectually,  we  must  recur  to  the 
question  suggested  above :  "  Why  is  it  that  the  spiritual  and 
obvious  explanation,  accepted  almost  without  murmur  or  ex- 
ception for  all   other  passages  where  the  Divine  Presence  is 

*  Perhaps,  as  this  scruple  in  early  times  extended  to  hoth  sacraments,  it  had 
not  then,  in  regard  to  the  Eucharist,  assumed  the  gross  corporeal  form  which 
it  represents  in  later  times.  But  it  may  be  worth  while  to  give  as  an  instance, 
both  of  the  force  with  which  it  was  held,  and  the  utter  recklessness  of  the  ex- 
ample and  teaching  of  Christ  Himself  with  wliioh  it  was  accompanied,  the 
following  passage  from  even  so  eminent  a  man  as  Clirjsostom:  "They  say  I 
liave  given  the  Communion  to  some  after  they  had  eaten;  but  if  I  did  this  let 
my  name  be  blottid  out  <if  the  bonk  of  i:islioi)s,  and  not  written  in  the  book  of 
orthodox  faith.  Ln!  if  I  did  anything  "f  the  sort,  Christ  irill  cast  iiic  out  of 
His  kingdom;  but  if  they  par.sist  in  urging  tkis,  and  are  contentious,  let  them 
also  ^ass  Hentence  against  the  Lord  Himself^  tcho  gave  the  Communion  to  the 
Apostles  after  supper."  (Ep.  liiS.)—The  Life  and  Times  of  St.  Chrysostom, 
by  the  Rev.  W.  Stephens. 


THE  REAL  PRESENCE.  75 

indicated,  should  have  ever  been  rejected  in  the  case  of  the 
Eucharist,  which,  in  its  first  institution,  had  for  its  evident  ob- 
ject the  expression  of  that  identical  thought?" 

It  was  a  wise  saying  of  Coleridge,  "  Presume  yourself  igno- 
rant of  a  writer's  understanding,  until  you  understand  his 
ignorance  ;"  and  so  in  regard  to  doctrines  or  ceremonies,  how- 
ever extravagant  they  may  seem  to  us,  it  is  almost  useless  to 
discuss  them  unless  we  endeavor  to  see  how  they  have  origi- 
nated. 

I.  First,  then,  it  may  be  said  that  the  material  interpretation 
of  this  ordinance  arose  from  a  defect  in  the  intellectual  condi- 
tion of  the  early  recipients  of  Christianity,  reaching  , 
back  to  its  very  beginning.  The  parabolical  and  parabolical 
figurative  language  of  the  Gospel  teaching  was  ^'^^s^^se- 
chosen  designedly.  There  were  many  reasons  for  its  adoption, 
some  accidental,  some  permanent.  It  was  the  language  of  the 
East,  and  therefore  the  almost  necessary  vehicle  of  thought  for 
One  who  spoke  as  an  Oriental  to  Orientals.  It  was  the  lan- 
guage best  suited,  then  as  always,  to  the  rude,  childlike  minds 
to  whom  the  Gospel  discourses  were  addressed.  It  was  the 
language  in  which  profound  doctrines  were  most  likely  to 
be  preserved  for  future  ages,  distinct  from  the  dogmatic 
or  philosophical  turns  of  speech,  which,  whilst  aiming  at 
forms  which  shall  endure  for  eternity,  are  often  the  most 
transitory  of  all,  often  far  more  transitory  than  the  hum- 
blest tale  or  the  simplest  figure  of  speech.  It  was  the 
sanction,  for  all  time,  of  the  use  of  fiction  and  poetry  as  a 
means  of  conveying  moral  and  religious  truth.  In  the  Para- 
bles of  the  Prodigal  Son  and  of  the  Rich  Man  and  Lazarus, 
are  wrapt  up  by  anticipation  the  drama  and  romance  of  mod- 
ern Europe.  But  with  these  immense  and  preponderating 
advantages  of  the  parabolic  style  of  instruction  was  combined 
one  inevitable  danger  and  drawback.  Great,  exalted,  general 
as  is  the  poetic  instinct  of  mankind,  it  yet  is  not  universal  or 
in  all  cases  supreme.  There  is  a  prosaic  element  in  the  human 
mind  which  turns  into  matter  of  fact  even  the  highest  flights 
of  genius  and  the  purest  aspirations  of  devotion.  And,  strange 
to  say,  this  prosaic  turn  is  sometimes  found  side  by  side  with 
the  development  of  the  parabolic  tendency  of  which  we  have 
been  speaking ;  sometimes  even  in  the  same  mind.     Nothing 


76  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

can  be  more  figurative  and  poetic  than  Bunyan's  *'  Pilgrim ;" 
nothing  more  homely  and  pedantic  than  his  "  Grace  Abound' 
ing."  This  union  of  the  two  tendencies  is  nowhere  more 
striking  than  in  the  East,  and  in  the  first  age  of  Christianity. 
It  ai>peared  in  the  Gospel  narrative  itself.  Appropriate,  ele- 
vating, unmistakable  as  were  our  Lord's  figures,  they  were 
again  and  again  brought  down  by  his  hearers  to  the  most  vul- 
gar and  commonplace  meaning.  The  reply  of  the  Samaritan 
woman  at  the  well — the  comment  of  the  Apostles  on  the 
leaven  of  the  Pharisees — the  gross  materialism  of  the  people 
of  Capernaum  in  regard  to  the  very  expressions  which  have  in 
part  been  pressed  into  modern  Eucharistic  controversies,  are 
well-known  cases  in  point.  The  Talmud  is  one  vast  system  of 
turning  figures  into  facts.  The  passionate  exclamation  of  the 
Psalmist,  "  Thou  hast  saved  me  from  among  the  horns  of  the 
unicorns,"  has  been  turned  by  the  Ptabbis  into  an  elaborate 
chronicle  of  adventures.  "  Imagination  and  defect  of  imagina- 
tion have  each  contributed  to  the  result."  *  The  whole  his- 
tory of  early  Millenarianism  implies  the  same  incapacity  for 
distinguishing  between  poetry  and  prose.  The  strange  tradi- 
tion of  our  Lord's  words  which  Irena?us  quoted  from  Papias, 
and  which  Papias  quoted  from  the  Apostles,  in  the  full  belief 
that  they  were  genuine,  is  a  sample  of  some  such  misunder- 
stood metaphor :  \  "  The  days  shall  come  when  each  vine  will 
grow  with  ten  thousand  boughs,  each  bough  with  ten  thou- 
sand branches,  each  branch  with  ten  thousand  twigs,  each  twig 
with  ten  thousand  bunches,  each  bunch  with  ten  thousand 
grapes,  each  grape  shall  yield  twenty-five  measures  of  wine." 
A  statement  like  this  provokes  only  a  smile,  because  it  never 
struck  root  in  the  Church  ;  but  it  is  not  in  itself  more  extrav- 
agant than  the  Sacramental  theories  built  on  figures  not  less 
evidently  poetic. 

II.  A  second  cause  of  the  persistency  of  this  physical  lim- 
itation of  the  Sacramental  doctrine  lay  in  the  fascination 
Prevalence  exercised  over  the  early  centuries  of  our  era  by  the 
of  magic.  belief  in  amulets  and  charms  which  the  Christians 
inherited,   and   could  not   but   inherit,    from    the   decaying 


*  Gould's  Legends  of  the  Old  Testament,  p.  vi. 

+  A  striking  explanation  is  given  of  this  in  Philochristus. 


THE  REAL  PRESENCE.  77 

Roman  Empire.  In  a  striking  passage  in  Cardinal  Newman's 
"  Essay  on  Development,"  written  with  the  view  of  identify- 
ing the  modern  Church  of  Rome  with  the  Church  of  the  earlr 
ages,  he  shows,  with  all  the  power  of  his  eloquence,  and  with 
a  remarkable  display  of  historical  ingenuity,  the  apparent 
affinity  between  the  magical  rites  which  flooded  Roman  society 
during  the  three  first  centuries,  and  what  seemed  to  be  their 
counterparts  in  the  contemporary  Christian  Church.  Doubt- 
less much  of  this  similarity  was  accidental ;  much  also  was  due 
to  the  vague  terror  inspired  by  a  new  and  powerful  religion. 
But  much  also  was  well  grounded  in  the  likeness  which  the 
aspect  of  early  Christianity  inevitably  bore  to  the  influences  by 
which  it  was  surrounded.  It  was  not  mere  hostility,  nor  mere 
ignorance,  which  saw  in  the  exorcisms,  the  purifications,  the 
mysteries  of  the  Church  of  the  first  ages,  the  effects  of  the 
same  vast  wave  of  superstition  which  elsewhere  produced  the 
witches  and  soothsayers  of  Italy,  the  Mithraic  rites  of  Persia, 
the  strange  charms-  and  invocations  of  the  Gnostics.  In  these 
likenesses  it  is  a  strange  inversion,  instead  of  recognizing  the 
influence  of  the  perishing  Empire  on  the  rising  Church,  not 
only  to  insist  on  binding  down  the  Church  to  the  effete  super- 
stitions of  the  Empire,  but  to  regard  those  superstitions  as 
themselves  the  marks  of  a  divine  Catholicity. 

Another  theologian,  with  a  far"  truer  historical  insight,  in 
noticing  the  like  correspondence  of  the  anarchical  tendencies 
of  that  period  with  the  regenerating  elements  of  Christianity, 
has  taken  a  juster  view  of  their  relation  to  each  other.  Whilst 
fully  acknowledging  that  the  Christian  movement  to  the  ex- 
ternal observer  appeared  to  embrace  them  both,  he  has  endeav- 
ored not  to  confound  the  lower  human  accretions  with  Chris- 
tianity itself,  but  to  distinguish  between  them.  "Christianity," 
says  Dr.  Arnold,  "  shared  the  common  lot  of  all  great  moral 
changes  ;  perfect  as  it  was  in  itself,  its  nominal  adherents  were 
often  neither  wise  nor  good.  The  seemingly  incongruous 
evils  of  the  thoroughly  corrupt  society  of  the  Roman  Empire, 
superstition  and  scepticism,  ferocity  and  sensual  profligacy, 
often  sheltered  themselves  under  the  name  of  Christianity; 
and  hence  the  heresies  of  the  first  age  of  the  Christian 
Church."  * 

*  Fragment  on  the  Church,  pp.  85,  86. 


78  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

The  "  sensual  profligacy  "  and  the  "  scepticism  "  no  doubt 
remained  amongst  "  the  heresies ;"  but  the  "  ferocity  "  and  the 
"superstition"  unfortunately  lingered  in  the  Church  itself. 
The  "  ferocity  "  developed  itself  somewhat  later  in  the  hordes 
of  monks  that  turned  the  council-hall  at  Ephesus  into  a  den  of 
thieves,  and  stained  the  streets  of  Alexandria  with  the  blood 
of  Hypatia.  The  "  superstition  "  clove  to  the  Sacramental 
ordinances,  and  too  often  converted  the  emblems  of  life  and 
light  into  signs  of  what  most  Christians  now  would  regard  as 
•  mere  remnants  of  sortilege  and  sorcery.  The  stories  of  Sacra- 
mental bread  carried  about  as  a  protection  against  sickness 
and  storm  can  deserve  no  other  name ;  and  it  was  not  without 
reason  that  in  later  times  the  sacred  words  of  consecration, 
which  often  degenerated  into  a  mere  incantation,  became  the 
equivalent  for  a  conjurer's  trick.  And  to  this  was  added  a 
peculiar  growth  of  the  third  and  fourth  centuries  of  the  Chris- 
tian era,  which  was  gradually  consolidated  amidst  the  length- 
ening shadows  of  the  falling  Empire, — the  sacerdotal  claims 
of  the  Christian  clergy.  In  themselves  these  clerical  preten- 
sions had  no  necessary  connection  with  the  material  view  of 
the  Sacramental  rites.  The  administration  of  Baptism  is  not 
regarded  even  by  Roman  Catholics  as  an  exclusive  privilege  of 
the  clergy.  In  early  times;  indeed,  it  was  practically  confined 
to  the  bishops,  but  this  was  soon  broken  through,  and  in  later 
ages  it  has  in  the  Roman  Church  been  viewed  as  the  right, 
and  even  in  some  cases  as  the  duty,  of  the  humblest  layman  or 
laywoman.  But  the  celebration  of  the  Eucharist,  although 
there  is  nothing  in  the  terms  of  its  original  institution  to  dis- 
tinguish it  in  this  respect  from  the  other  sacrament,  has  yet 
been  regarded  as  a  peculiar  function  of  the  priesthood.  In  the 
second  century,  like  that  other  sacrament,  its  administration 
depended  on  the  permission  of  the  bishops,  yet  when  emanci- 
pated from  their  control,  unlike  Baptism,  it  did  not  descend 
lieyond  the  order  of  presbyters,  and  has  ever  since  been  bound 
up  with  their  dignity  and  power.  Even  here  there  can  be 
found  in  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  those  who  maintain  that 
there  is  no  essential  and  necessary  connection  between  their 
office  and  the  validity  of  the  Sacrament.  But  this  has  not 
been  the  general  view;  and  it  is  impossible  not  to  suppose  that 
the  belief  in  the  preternatural  powers  of  the  priesthood,  and 


THE  REAL  PEESENGE.  7^ 

the  belief  in  the  material  efficacy  of  the  sacramental  elements, 
have  acted  and  reacted  upon  each  other,  culminating  in  the  ex- 
traordinary hyperbole  which  regards  the  priest  as  the  maker  of 
his  Creator,  and  varying  with  the  importance  which  has  been 
ascribed  to  the  second  otder  of  the  Christian  clergy,  and 
through  them  to  the  hierarchy  generally. 

III.  These  two  tendencies — the  early  tendency  to  mistake 
parable  for  prose,  and  the  early  superstitions  regard  for  exter- 
nal objects — are  sufficient  to  account  for  the  lower  forms  of 
the  irrational  theories  respecting  the  Sacrament  of  The  spirit- 
the  Eucharist.  But  there  is  a  third  cause  of  a  uaiview. 
nobler  kind  which  will  lead  us  gradually  and  naturally  to  the 
consideration  of  the  other  side  of  the  question.  It  is  one  of 
the  peculiarities  of  this  Sacrament  that  partly  through  its  long 
history,  partly  from  the  original  grandeur  of  its  first  concep- 
tion, it  suggests  a  great  variety  of  thoughts  which  cling  to  it 
with  such  tenacity  as  almost  to  become  part  of  itself.  To  dis- 
entangle these  from  the  actual  forms  which  they  encompass — 
to  draw  precisely  the  limits  where  the  outward  ends  and  the 
inward  begins,  where  the  transitory  melts  into  the  eternal  and 
the  earthly  into  the  heavenly — is  beyond  the  power  of  many, 
beside  the  wish  of  most.  An  example  may  be  taken  from 
another  great  ordinance  which  belongs  to  the  world  no  less 
than  to  the  Church,  and  which  by  more  than  half  Christendom 
is  regarded  as  a  sacrament — Marriage.  How  difficult  it  would 
be  to  analyze  the  ordinary  mode  of  feeling  regarding  the  cere- 
mony which  unites  two  human  beings  in  the  most  sacred  rela- 
tions of  life ;  how  many  trains  of  association  from  Jewish 
patriarchal  traditions,  from  the  usages  of  Imperial  Rome,  from 
the  metaphors  of  Apostolic  teaching,  from  the  purity  of  Teu- 
tonic and  of  English  homes,  have  gone  to  make  up  the  joint 
sanctity  of  that  solemn  moment,  in  which  the  reality  and  the 
form  are  by  the  laws  of  God  and  man  blended  in  indissoluble 
union.  Even  if  there  are  mingled  with  it  customs  which  had 
once  a  baser  significance  ;  yet  still  even  these  are  invested  by 
the  feeling  of  the  moment  with  a  meaning  above  themselves, 
which  envelops  the  whole  ceremonial  with  an  atmosphere  of 
grandeur  that  no  inferior  associaiions  can  dispel  or  degrade. 
Something  analogous  is  the  mixture  of  ideas  which  has  sprung 
up   round  the  Eucharist.     It  has,  by  the  very  nature  of  the 


80  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

case,  two  sides :  its  visible  material  aspect,  of  a  ceremony,  of 
a  test,  of  a  mystic  chain  by  which  the  priest  brings  the 
Creator  down  to  earth,  and  attaches  his  followers  to  himself 
and  his  order ;  and  its  noble  spiritual  aspect  of  a  sacred  mem- 
ory, of  a  joyous  thanksgiving,  of  a  solemn  self-dedication,  of 
an  upward  aspiration  towards  the  Divine  and  the  Unseen. 

We  have  already  spoken  of  the  legends  which  have  repre- 
sented in  an  outward  form  the  spiritual  presence  of  the  Founder 
in  the  world  at  large.  We  have  also  spoken  of  those  which 
have  represented  the  same  idea  in  connection  with  the  suf- 
ferers or  the  heroes  of  humanity.  There  are  also  legends  on 
which  we  may  for  a  moment  dwell  as  representing  in  a  vivid 
form  both  the  baser  and  the  loftier  view  of  the  same  idea  in 
th  Eucharist.  The  lowest  and  most  material  conception  of 
this  Presence  is  brought  before  us  in  the  legend  of  the  miracle 
of  Bolsena,  immortalized  by  the  fresco  of  Raphael,  in  which 
the  incredulous  priest  was  persuaded  by  the  falling  of  drops  of 
blood  from  the  consecrated  wafer  at  the  altar  of  that  ancient 
Etruscan  city.  Such  stories  of  bleeding  wafers  were  not 
unfrequent  in  the  Middle  Ages,  and  it  is  not  impossible  that 
they  originated  in  the  curious  natural  phenomenon  which  was 
described  in  connection  with  the  appearance  of  the  cholera  in 
Berlin — the  discoloration  produced  by  the  appearance  of  cer- 
tain small  scarlet  insects  which  left  on  the  bread  which  they 
touched  the  appearance  of  drops  of  blood.  Some  such  ap- 
pearance, real  or  supposed,  suggested,  probably,  the  material 
transformation  of  the  elements  into  the  flesh  and  blood  of  the 
outward  frame  of  the  Founder.  This  is  the  foundation  of  the 
great  festival  of  Corpus  Christi,  which  from  the  thirteenth 
century  has  in  the  Latin  Church  commemorated  the  miracle  of 
Bolsena,  and  with  it  the  doctrine  supposed  to  be  indicated 
therein.  Another  class  of  legend  rises  somewhat  higher.  It 
is  that  of  a  radiant  child  appearing  on  the  altar,  such  as  is 
described  in  the  lives  of  Edward  the  Confessor,  and  engraved 
on  the  screen  which  incloses  his  shrine  in  Westminster 
Abbey.  Leofric,  Earl  of  Mercia,  with  his  famous  Countess 
Godiva,  was  believed  to  have  been  present  with  the  King,  and 
to  liave  seen  it  also.  This  apparition,  "  pure  and  bright  as  a 
spirit,"  is  evidently  something  more  refined  than  the  indenti- 
fication  of  the  wafer  and  wine  with  the  mere  flesh  and  blood 


THE  REAL  PRESENCE.  81 

of  the  human  body  of  a  full  grown-nian,  and,  if  both  stories 
were  taken  literally,  each  would  be  inconsistent  with  the  other. 
A  third  incident  of  the  kind  leads  us  higher  yet,  and  is  the 
more  remarkable  from  its  indicating  the  doctrine  of  a  Eucha- 
ristic  Presence  in  a  Church  which  most  English  High  Church- 
men despise  as  altogether  outside  the  pale  of  Sacramental 
graces.  It  has  been  told  in  various  places ;  amongst  others,  in 
the  twenty-first  edition  *  of  the  interesting  reminiscences  of 
Scottish  Character,  by  the  venerable  Dean  Ramsay,  how  a 
half-witted  boy  in  Forfarshire  after  long  entreaties  persuaded 
the  minister  to  give  him  what  he  called  his  Father's  bread,  and 
returned  home,  exclaiming,  "  Oh,  I  have  seen  the  pretty  man  !" 
and  died  that  night  in  excess  of  rapture.  No  savor  or  tradi- 
tion of  Transubstantiation  had  invaded  the  brain  of  this  poor 
child.  No  Presbyterian  would  admit  the  external  reality  of  the 
vision.  No  Catholic  or  High  Episcopalian  would  acknowledge 
the  reality  of  that  Presbyterian  Sacrament.  But,  nevertheless, 
the  purely  Protestant  idea  of  a  spirtual  communion  had  such 
an  effect  as  to  produce  an  impression  analogous,  however 
superior,  to  the  visions  of  the  Priest  of  Bolsena  or  the  Saxon 
King.  No  serious  confusion  can  arise  so  long  as  we  hold  to 
the  obvious  truth  that  outward  appearances  can  never  be  more 
than  signs  of  spiritual  and  moral  excellence  ;  and  that  even 
were  the  Saviour  Himself  present  in  visible  form  before  us, 
that  visible  presence  would  be  useless  to  us,  except  as  a  token 
of  the  Divine  Spirit  within,  and  would  have  no  effect  on  the 
human  soul  unless  the  soul  consciously  received  a  moral  im- 
pulse from  it. 

Such  are  the  various  elements  which  have  gone  to  make  up 
the  sentiment  of  Christendom  on  a  subject  in  itself  so  simple, 
but  complicated  by  the  confluence  of  the  heterogeneous  streams 
of  irrelevant  argument,  misapplied  metaphor,  and  genuine 
devotion.  How  its  more  material  aspect  deepened  as  time 
rolled  on,  we  have  already  indicated.  The  long  mediaeval  con- 
troversy was  at  last  closed  by  the  definition  of  Transubstantia- 
tion in  the  fourth  Council  of  Lateran,  and  this  was  followed  l)y 
the  stories  already  cited  of  the  miracle  of  Bolsena,  and  other 
like  incidents,  which  finally  produced  what  may  be  called  the 

*  Vol.  i.  239. 

4* 


82  OHRISTIAI^  INSTITUTIONS. 

popular  belief  of  the  Roman  Church,  that  the  bread  and  wine 
are,  after  consecration,  neither  more  nor  less  than  the  body 
and  blood  that  was  crucified  on  Calvary. 

But  it  is  interesting,  and  for  our  present  purpose  instructive, 
to  o.bserve  how  behind  this  popular  belief,  and  even  in  some 
of  the  forms  which  most  directly  arose  out  of  it,  there  was  yet 
a  constant  turning  to  the  higher  and  more  spiritual  view.  Not 
only  had  Berengar  and  Abelard  protested  against  the  grosser 
conceptions,  not  only  had  the  mighty  Hildebrand  vacillated  in 
his  orthodoxy,  but  the  very  statement  of  "  Transubstantiation," 
properly  understood,  contained  a  safety-valve,  through  which 
the  more  earthly  and  dogmatic  expressions  of  the  doctrine 
evaporate  and  melt  into  something  not  very  unlike  the  purest 
Protestantism.  The  word  is  based,  as  its'  component  parts 
sufficiently  indicate,  on  the  scholastic  distinction  between 
"Substance"  and  "Accidents,"  a  distinction  which  has  long 
since  vanished  out  of  every  sound  system  either  of  physics  or 
metaphysics,*  but  which  at  the  time  must  have  been  like  a 
Deus  ex  machind  to  relieve  the  difficulties  of  theologians  strug- 
gling to  maintain  their  conscience  and  sense  of  truth  against  the 
prevailing  superstitions  of  the  age.  Every  external  object  was 
then  believed  to  consist  of  two  parts — the  accidents,  which 
represented  the  solid  visible  framework,  alone  cognizable  by 
the  senses,  and  the  substance,  which  was  the  inward  essence 
or  Platonic  idea,  invisible  to  mortal  eye,  incommunicable  to 
mortal  touch.  The  popular  notion  of  the  Roman  Catholic 
doctrine  is,  no  doubt,  that  the  change  believed  to  be  effected 
in  the  Eucharist  is  not  of  "the  substance,"  but  of  "the  acci- 
dents." This  would  seem  (on  the  whole)  the  view  of  Aquinas, 
who  maintains,  not,  indeed,  that  the  accidents  of  the  bread  and 
wine  are  changed,  but  that  the  substance  is  changed,  not  merel} 
into  the  substance,  but  into  the  accidents  of  the  body  and 
blood.l  This  is  clear  not  only  from  the  legends  of  the  bleed- 
ing wafers  and  the  like,  but  from  the  common  language  used 


*  The  connection  of  these  materialist  views  of  the  Sacrament  with  the 
scholastic  distinction  between  "substance"  and  "accidents"  has  been  well 
pointed  out  by  two  dist  iiifjruished  scholars,  who,  whenever  thej-  apply  them- 
selves to  theological  sulijctts,  speak  with  a  lucidity  and  an  aulhority  which 
need  no  addition.— Bishop  Tliirlwall  in  his  Charge  of  1854  {liemaiyis,  i.  2.38-46, 
249-51),  and  Dean  Liddell  in  his  sermon  entitled  "There  am  I  in  the  midst." 

1'  Lib.  iv.  Sent.  Dist.  viii.  qu.  3:  qpoted  in  Bishop  ThirlwaU's  Charge  of  1854. 
{Remains,  1. 250.) 


THE  REAL  PRESENCE.  83 

as  to  the  portentous  miracle  by  which  the  visible  earthly  ele- 
ments are  supposed  to  be  transformed  into  something  invisible 
and  celestial.  But  the  true  scholastic  doctrine  is  wholly  incon- 
sistent with  any  such  supposition.  The  "substance"  spoken 
of  is  not  the  material  substance,  but  the  impalpable  idea.  The 
miracle,  if  it  can  be  so  called  in  any  sense  of  that  much-vexed 
word,  consists  in  the  transformation  of  one  invisible  object 
into  another  invisible  object.  The  senses  have  no  part  or  lot 
in  the  transaction,  on  one  side  or  the  other.  Even  the  "sub- 
stance "  *  into  which  the  ideal  essence  of  the  bread  and  wine  is 
transformed  is  not  the  gross  corporeal  matter  of  the  bones  and 
sinews  and  fluid  of  the  human  frame,  but  the  ideal  essence  of 
that  frame.  It  is,  probably,  not  without  design  that  Cardinal 
Newman,  in  speaking  of  the  word  "  substance,"  lays  down  so 
anxiously  and  precisely  that  "the  greatest  philosophers  know 
nothing  at  all  about  it."  The  doctrine,  thus  conceived  and 
thus  stated  in  one  of  the  decrees  of  Trent,  is,  as  the  Bishop  of 
St.  Da\'id'sf  well  expresses  it,  the  assertion  that  "one  meta- 
phj'sical  entity  is  substituted  for  another,  equally  beyond  the 
grasp  of  the  human  mind,  and  equally  incapable  of  any  predi- 
cate by  which  it  may  become  the  subject  of  an  intelligible 
proposition."  It  is  evident  that  under  cover  of  a  word  which 
either  means  nothing  or  something  which  no  one  can  under- 
stand, the  whole  idealistic  philosophy,  the  whole  rationalistic 
theology,  the  whole  Biblicaland  spiritual  conceptions  of  the 
Eucharist,  might  steal  in. 

It  is  difficult,  but  it  is  instructive,  to  track  out  the  course  of 
this  Protean  Jogomachy.  The  confusion  pervades  not  only  the 
words  of  tlie  doctrine,  but  the  forms  which  have  gathered 
round  it.  Whilst  some  of  these  forms  have  intensified  the 
gross  popular  belief,  and  are  only  explicable  on  the  supposition 
of  its  truth, — such  as  the  minute  precautions  concerning  the 
mode  of  disposing  of  the  sacred  elements,  or  of  guarding  them 
against  the  trivial  incidents  of  every-day  occurrence, — on  the 
other  hand,  some  of  them  are  only  defensible  on  the  hypothesis 


*  The  ambiguity  which  in  the  Roman  statement  attaches  to  the  word  "  sub 
stance,"  in  the  Anglican  statement  attaches  no  less  to  the  word  "real.' 
"  Nothing  in  this  question  can  depend  on  the  expression  Real  Presence; 
everything  on  the  sense  which  is  attached  to  it."— Bishop  Thirlwall's  Charge, 
1854.    (Remains,  i.  240.) 

+  Charge,  ia54.    (Remains,  i.  250.) 


84  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

of  the  more  spiritual  view  to  whicli  we  heave  just  adverted. 
This  is  even  more  apparent  in  the  mediaeval  and  Western  than 
In  the  Patristic  and  Oriental  Church.  We  have  seen  that 
in  the  earlier  ages  it  was  the  custom,  as  it  still  is  in  Eastern 
worship,  to  give  the  Communion  to  infants.  This  custom 
sicce  the  thirteenth  century  has  in  the  Latin  Church  been 
entirely  proscribed.  Partly,  no  doubt,  this  may  have  arisen 
from  the  fear — increasing  with  the  increase  of  the  superstitious 
veneration  for  the  actual  elements — lest  the  wine,  or  as  it  was 
deemed  the  sacred  blood,  should  be  spilt  in  the  process;  but 
partly  also  it  arose  from  the  repugnance  which  the  more  rest- 
less, rational,  and  reforming  West  felt  against  an  infant's 
unconscious  participation  in  a  rite  which,  according  to  any 
reasonable  explanation  of  its  import,  could  not  be  considered 
as  useful  to  any  except  conscious  and  intelligent  agents.  In 
many  of  its  aspects,  no  doubt,  the  same  might  be  said  of 
Baptism.  But  there  it  was  at  least  possible  to  regard  the  rite 
in  relation  to  children  as  equivalent  to  an  enrolment  in  a  new 
society — a  dedication  to  a  merciful  Saviour — a  hope  that  they 
would  lead  the  rest  of  their  lives  according  to  this  beginning. 
Not  so  the  Eucharist.  The  Eucharist  is  either  a  purely  moral 
act,  or  else  it  is  entirely  mechanical.  If  viewed  as  a  charm,  as  a 
medicine,  it  would  be  equally  applicable  to  conscious  or  un- 
conscious persons,  to  children  or  to  full-grown  men.  But  if 
viewed  as  an  act  of  the  will,  Infant  Communion  became  an 
obvious  incongruity,  and  accordingly,  in  spite  of  the  long  and 
venerable  traditions  which  sustained  the  usage,  it  was  deliber- 
ately abandoned  by  the  Latin  Church ;  and  we.  may  be  sure 
that  the  enlightened  sense  of  Christian  Europe  will  forever 
prevent  its  rehabilitation.  The  rejection  of  Infant  Commu- 
oion  is  intelligible  on  the  principle  that  the  efficacy  of  the 
Eucharist  is  a  moral  influence — it  is  totally  indefensible  on 
the  principle  whether  of  Roman  or  Anglican  divines,  who 
maintain  its  efficacy,  irrespectively  of  any  spiritual  thought  or 
reflection  in  the  recipient.  Another  change  of  the  same  kind 
in  Western  Cliristendom  is  equally  open  to  this  construction. 
One  of  the  most  common  charges  of  Protestants  against  the 
Church  of  Rome  is  its  withholding  of  the  cup  from  the  laity. 
The  expression  is  not  quite  accurate.  The  cup  is  not  abso- 
lutely withheld  from  laymen,  inasmuch  as  it  was  the  privilege 


THE  REAL  PRESENCE.  86 

of  the  Kings  of  France,  and  also  is  still  given  in  cases  of  ill- 
ness ;  and  its  retention  is  not  from  the  laity  as  such,  but  from 
all,  whether  priests  or  laymen,  that  are  not  actually  officiating. 
This,  properly  understood,  places  the  custom  on  what  is  no 
doubt  its  true  basis.  It  began  probably,  like  the  denial  of  the 
Communion  to  infants,  from  an  apprehension  lest  the  chalice 
should  be  spilt  in  going  to  and  fro,  or  lest  the  sacred  liquid 
should  adhere  to  the  beards  or  moustaches  of  the  .bristling 
warriors  of  the  Middle  Ages.  But  it  was  justified  on  a  ground 
which  is  fatal  to  the  localization  of  the  Divine  Presence  in  the 
earthly  elements.  It  was  maintained  that  the  communicant 
received  the  benefits  of  the  sacrament  as  completely  if  he  par- 
took of  one  of  the  two  species  as  if  he  partook  of  both.  This 
was  at  once  to  assert  that  the  efficacy  of  the  sacrament  did  not 
depend  on  the  material  elements.  It  was  the  same  revolution 
with  respect  to  the  Eucharist  that  the  almost  contemporary 
substitution  of  sprinkling  for  immersion  was  in  Baptism. 
Such  a  change  in  the  matter  of  either  sacrament  can  only  be 
justified  on  the  principle  that  the  matter  is  but  of  small  impor- 
tance— that  the  main  stress  must  be  on  the  spirit.  And  when 
to  this  alteration  of  form  was  yet  further  added,  in  explanation 
of  it,  a  distinct  scholastic  theory  that  each  of  the  two  species 
contained  the  substance  of  both,  the  doctrine  of  the  supreme 
indifference  of  form  was  consolidated,  so  far  as  the  metaphys- 
ical subtleties  and  barbarous  philosophy  of  that  age  would 
allow,  into  a  separate  dogma. 

If  the  fine  lines  of  Thomas  Aquinas  in  his  famous  hymn, 
"  Lauda  Sion  Salvatorem,"  have  any  sense  at  all,  they  mean 
that  the  body  of  Christ  is  not  contained  in  the  bread,  nor  the 
blood  in  the  wine,  but  that  something  different  from  each  is 
contained  in  both;  and  what  that  something  is  must  either  be 
a  purely  spiritual  Presence  in  the  hearts  of  the  faithful  or  else 
the  presence  of  two  physical  bodies  existing  on  every  altar  at 
the  same  moment,  which  is  maintained  by  no  one. 

When  the  Bohemian  Utraquists  fought  with  desperate  energy 
to  recover  the  use  of  the  cup,  they  were  in  one  sense  doubtless 
fighting  the  cause  of  the  laity  against  the  clergy,  of  old  Cath- 
olic latitude  against  modern  Roman  restrictions.  But  with 
that  obliquity  of  purpose  which  sometimes  characterizes  the 
fiercest    ecclesiastical    struggles,  the   Roman   Church,   on    the 


86  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

other  hand,  was  fighting  the  battle  of  an  enlarged  and  liberal 
view  of  the  Sacraments  against  a  fanatical  insistence  on  the 
necessity  of  a  detailed  conformity  to  ancient  usage. 

Of  a  piece  with  these  indications  of  a  more  reasonable  view 
is  the  constant  under-song  of  better  spirits  from  the  earliest 
times,  which  maintains  with  regard  to  both  Sacraments,  not 
only  that,  in  extreme  cases,  they  may  be  dispensed  with,  but 
that  their  essence  is  to  be  had  without  the  form  at  all.  The 
bold  doctrine  of  Wall — the  great  Anglican  authority  of  Infant 
Baptism — that  Quakers  may  be  regarded  as  baptized,  because 
they  have  the  substance  of  that  of  which  baptism  is  the  sign, 
is  justified  by  the  maxim  of  the  early  Church  that  the  martyr- 
dom of  the  unbaptized  is  itself  a  baptism.  And  in  like  man- 
ner, the  most  Protestant  of  all  the  statements  on  this  subject 
in  the  English  Prayer  Book  is  itself  taken  from  an  earlier 
rubric  to  the  same  efliect  in  the  mediaeval  Church :  "  If  a  man 
....  by  any  just  impediment  do  not  receive  the  Sacrament 
of  Christ's  body  and  blood,  the  Church  shall  instruct  him  that" 
[if  he  fulfil  the  moral  conditions  of  Communion],  "  he  doth 
cat  and  drink  the  Body  and  Blood  of  our  Saviour  Christ  to  his 
soul's  health,  although  he  do  not  receive  the  Sacrament  with  his 
mouthy  This  principle  is  asserted  in  the  Sarum  Manual, 
which  less  distinctly,  but  not  less  positively,  allowed  of  the 
possibility  of  spiritual  communion  when  actual  reception  of  the 
elements  was  impossible.* 

Such  a  concession  is  in  fact  the  concession  of  the  whole 
principle.  In  the  more  stringent  view,  the  outward  reception 
of  the  two  Sacraments  was  regarded  as  so  absolutely  necessary 
to  salvation,  that  not  even  the  innocence  of  the  new-born  babe 
nor  the  blameless  life  of  Marcus  Aurelius  were  allowed  to 
plead  against  their  lack  of  the  outward  form  of  one  or  the 
other.  But  the  moment  that  the  door  is  opened  for  the  moral 
consideration  of  what  is  due  to  mercy  and  humanity,  the  whole 
fabric  of  the  strict  Sacramental  system  vanishes,  and  reason, 
justice,  and  charity  step  in  to  take  their  rightful  places. 

IV.  We  liave  thus  far  endeavored  to  show  how  in  the  vitals 
of  the  most  mechanical  theory  of  the  Sacraments  there  was 
wrapt  up  a  protest  in  favor  of  the  most  spiritual  view.     Let 


•  Blunt's  Annotated  Prayer  Book,  p.  891. 


THE  REAL  PRESENCE.  g? 

us  for  a  moment  take  the  reverse  side  of  the  picture,  and  show 
how,  in  the  heart  of  the  early  Protestant  Church,  there  has 
always  been  wrapt  up  a  lurking  tenderness  for  the  purely  out- 
ward and  material  view. 

When  the  shock  of  the  Reformation  came,  next  after  the 
Pope's  Supremacy  and  the  doctrine  of  Justification  by  Faith — 
and  iu  a  certain  sense  more  fiercely  even  than  either  of  these, 
because  it  concerned  a  tangible  and  visible  object — the  battle 
of  the  Churches  was  fought  over  the  Sacrament  of  the  Altar. 

Each  of  the  Reformers  on  the  Continent  made  some  for- 
midable inroad  into  the  usages  or  the  theories  which  the  Ro- 
man Church  had  built  up  on  the  primitive  ordinance.  Yet  they 
all  retained  something  of  the  old  scholastic  theory,  or  the  old 
material  sentiment  on  the  external  surroundings  of  the  grand 
spiritual  conception  of  the  Sacrament.  The  scholastic  con- 
fusion between  substance  and  accident  continued 
in  full  force.  Luther,  in  most  points  the  boldest, 
the  most  spiritual  of  all,  on  this  point  was  the  most  hesitating 
and  the  most  superstitious.  Under  the  new  name  of  "  Con- 
substantiation,"  the  ancient  dogma  of  "  Transubstantiation  " 
received  a  fresh  lease  of  life.  The  unchanged  form  of  the 
Lutheran  altar,  with  crucifix,  candles,  and  wafer,  testified  to 
the  comparatively  unchanged  doctrine  of  the  Lutheran  sacra- 
ment. Melanchthon,  Bucer,  Calvin,  all  trembled  on  the  same 
inclined  slope  ;  all  labored  to  retain  some  mixture  of  the  phys- 
ical with  the  purer  idea  of  the  metaphysical,  moral  efficacy 
of  the  Eucharistic  rite.  One  only,  the  Reformer  of  Zurich, 
"  the  clear-headed  and  intrepid  Zwingli,"  *  in  treat-  . 
ing  of  this  subject,  anticipated  the  necessary  con- 
clusion of  the  whole  matter.  But  his  doctrine  prevailed  in 
England  and  on  the  Continent  wherever  his  influence  ex- 
tended, and  in  the  Roman  Church  has  not  been  altogether 
inoperative.  In  language,  perhaps  too  austerely  exact,  but 
transparently  clear,  he  recognized  the  full  Biblical  truth,  that 
the  operations  of  the  Divine  Spirit  on  the  soul  can  only  be 
through  moral  means ;  and  that  the  moral  influence  of  the 
Sacrament  is  chiefly  or  solely  through  the  potency  of  its 
unique  commemoration  of  the  most  touching  and  transcendent 

*  See  the  excellent  account  of  Zwingli,  Bampton  Lectures  on  the  Com- 
munion of  Saints,  by  the  Rev.  H.  B.  Wilson,  p.  135. 


88  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

event  in  history.  Tliis  is  the  view,  sometimes  in  contempt 
called  Zwinglian,  which  in  substance  became  the  doctrine  of 
all  the  "Reformed  Churches"*  properly  so  called,  and  in  a 
more  or  less  degree  of  all  Protestant  Churches.  It  is  well 
known  how  vehemently  Luther  struggled  against  it.  In  the 
princely  hall  of  the  old  castle  which  crowns  the  romantic  town 
of  Marburg  took  place  the  stormy  discussion  in  which  Luther 
and  Zwingli,  in  the  presence  of  the  Landgrave  of  Hesse,  for 
two  long  days  met  face  to  face,  in  the  vain  hope  of  convincing 
one  another,  with  the  hope,  not  equally  vain,  of  at  least  part- 
ing in  friendship.  Everything  which  could  be  said  on  behalf 
of  the  dogmatic,  coarse,  literal  interpretation  of  the  institu- 
tion was  urged  with  the  utmost  vigor  of  word  and  gesture  by 
the  stubborn  Saxon.  Everything  which  could  be  said  on 
behalf  of  the  rational,  refined,  spiritual  construction  was  urged 
with  a  union  of  the  utmost  acuteness  and  gentleness  by  the 
sober-minded  Swiss.  Never  before  or  since  have  the  two 
views  been  brought  into  such  close  collision. 

V.  We  now  turn  to  the  relation  of  the  two  conflicting  ten- 
English  dencies  in  England.  It  will  not  be  surprising  to 
Church,  any  QXid  who  has  followed  the  essentially  mixed 
aspect  of  the  English  character  and  of  English  institutions,  the 
gradual  development  of  our  religious,  side  by  side  with  the 
equally  gradual  development  of  our  political,  ordinances  and 
ideas — that  the  conflict  of  thought,  visible  as  we  have  seen 
even  in  the  compact  fabric  both  of  the  Roman  and  the  Pres- 
byterian Churches,  should  have  left  yet  deeper  traces  in  the 
Church  of  England.  During  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.  this 
hesitation  was  almost  a  necessary  consequence  of  the  labori- 
ous efforts  by  which  King  and  people  rose  out  of  their  own 
natural  prepossessions  into  a  higher  region : 

Now  half  appeared 
The  tawnv  liim,  i)awin,i^  to  get  free 
His  hinder  jiarts,  tlicii  sprini^s  as  broke  from  bonds, 
And  raiupaiit  shakes  his  brinded  mane. 

No  doubt  the  ancient  doctrine  maintained  its  ])!ace  during 
those  eventful  years.  But  Tyndale  had  not  spoken  and  written 
in  vain;  and  already  by    the  Royal  theologian  liimself  was  is- 

*  I.e.,  the  Swiss,  South  German,  French,  and  English  Churches. 


THE  REAL  PRESENCE.  89 

sued  one  of  those  statesmanlike  documents  in  wliicli  the  true 
doctrine  of  the  relation  of  form  to  spirit  is  set  forth  with  a 
clearness  of  exposition  and  of  thought  that  has  never  been  sur- 
passed.* The  contradictions  and  vacillations  in  the  growth 
of  Cranraer's  opinions  on  this  point  are  well  know.  Nothing 
can  be  more  natural — nothing,  we  may  add,  more  credital)le 
to  his  honesty  and  discrimination — than  that  he  should  have 
felt  his  way  gradually  and  carefully  though  the  labyrinth 
from  which  he  had  been  slowly  emerging.  In  Edward  VI.'s 
reign,  the  influence  of  the  Reformer  of  Zurich  at  last  made 
itself  felt  in  every  corner  of  the  ecclesiastical  movement  of 
England ;  f  "  De  coena  oranes  Angli  recte  sentiunt,"  writes 
Hooper  to  his  Swiss  friends  in  1549  ;  "  Satisfecit  piis  Eduardi 
reformatio,"  writes  Bullinger.  At  length  Cranraer's  agree- 
ment with  the  Helvetic  Confession  of  1536  was  complete. 
"Canterbury,"  writes  a  friend  to  Bullinger  in  1548,  "contrary 
to  expectation,  maintained  your  opinion.  It  is  all  over  with 
the  Lutherans."  Ridley's  last  sentiments,  though  guardedly 
expressed,  were  at  the  core  the  same  as  Cranmer's.  It  was  its 
persistent  adhesion  to  the  Swiss  doctrine  on  the  whole  which 
made  the  Anglican  Church,  in  spite  of  its  episcopal  govern- 
ment and  liturgical  worship,  to  be  classed  not  amongst  the 
Lutheran  but  amongst  the  Reformed  Churches, 

Yet  still  the  medijeval,  or,  if  we  will,  the  Lutheran  element 
remained  too  strongly  fixed  to  be  altogether  dislodged.  At  the 
distance  of  two  centuries.  Swift  could  regard  his  own  Church 
as  represented  by  Martin  rather  than  by  Jack.  Lutheranism 
was,  in  fact,  the  exact  shade  which  colored  the  mind  of  Eliz- 
abeth, and  of  the  divines  who  held  to  her.  Her  altar  was 
precisely  the  Lutheran  altar ;  her  opinions  were  represented 
in  almost  a  continuous  line  by  one  divine  after  another  down 
to  our  own  time.  But  they  were  always  kept  in  check  by  the 
strong  Zwinglian  atmosphere  which  pervaded  the  original  the- 
ology of  the  English  Church,  and  which  has  been  its  prevail- 
ing hue  ever  since.  Into  this  more  reasonable  theology  almost 
every  expression  that  has  been  since  used  (till  quite  our 
modern  times)   might  be  resolved.     But  in  the  earlier  years 


*  Froude's  History,  iii.  367. 

t  See  Cardwell's  Two  Liturgies,  Pref.  pp.  2&-38. 


90  CHRISTIAK  INSTITUTIONS. 

of  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  not  only  the  Qneen  herself,  but  a 
very  large  portion  of  the  English  clergy,  who  had  been  brought 
up  in  the  Roman  doctrine,  still  held  opinions  scarcely  dis- 
tinguishable from  it.  Thus  it  came  to  pass  that,  in  the  spirit 
of  compromise  and  conciliation  which  pervaded  all  their  work, 
the  framers  of  the  formularies,  though  determined  to  keep  the 
Zwinglian  doctrine  intact,  yet  often  so  expressed  it  as  to  make 
it  look  as  much  like  Lutheranism  as  possible.  Elizabeth  her- 
self, when  cross-questioned  in  her  sister's  time,  evaded  the 
doctrine  rather  than  stated  it  distinctly.  There  are  still  to  be 
seen  rudely  carved  on  a  stone  under  the  pulpit  of  the  Church 
of  Walton  on  Thames  the  lines  in  which  she  gave  the  answer 
that  to  many  a  devout  spirit  in  the  English  Church  has  seemed 
a  sufficient  reply  to  all  questionings  on  the  subject : 

Christ  was  the  Word  and  spake  it, 

He  took  the  bread  and  brake  it;  ' 

And  what  the  Word  doth  make  it 

That  I  beheve  and  take  it. 

The  Articles  as  finally  drawn  up  in  her  reign  exhibit  this  same 
reluctance  to  exclude  positively  one  or  other  of  the  two  views. 
The  28th  Article,  as  originally  written  in  Edward  VI.'s  time, 
had  expressed  the  exact  Helvetic  doctrine.  A  sentence  was 
added  in  which,  amidst  a  crowd  of  Zwinglian  expressions,  one 
word — "  given  " — was  inserted  which,  though  not  necessarily 
Lutheran  or  Roman,  certainly  lent  itself  to  that  meaning. 
The  29th  Article,  on  "  the  wicked  which  eat  not  the  Body  of 
Christ  in  the  use  of  the  Lord's  Supper,"  which  was  added  in 
Elizabeth's  time,  was  obviously  meant  to  condemn  the  doctrine 
that  there  is  any  reception  possible  but  a  moral  reception. 
But — not  to  speak  of  the  slight  wavering,  at  its  close,  of  the 
positiveness  of  its  opening — this  very  Article,  though  author- 
ized by  the  canons  of  1603,  and  by  implication  in  the  Caroline 
Act  of  Uniformity  in  1662,  does  not  occur  in  the  edition  of 
the  Articles  (which  are  here  only  38  in  number)  antiiorized  by 
the  13th  of  Elizabeth.  That  is  to  say,  this  most  Protestant 
of  all  the  Articles  is  confirmed  by  what  many  regard  as  the 
authority  of  the  Church  in  convocation,  and  by  the  legislature 
of  Charles  IL's  time,  but  it  was  not  confirmed  by  the  Act 
which  first  imposed  the  Articles,  and  which  had  for  its  object 
the  admission  of  I'resbytorian  orders. 

The  Catechism,  which  originally  contained  no  exposition  of 


THE  REAL  PRESENCE.  91 

tHc  sacraments  at  all,  in  the  time  of  James  I.  received  a  sup- 
plement, in  whicli  for  one  moment  tlie  liiglily  rhetorical  lan- 
guage of  the  Fathers  and  Schoolmen  is  strongly  pressed  :  "  The 
Body  and  Blood  of  Christ  are  verily  and  indeed  taken  and 
received  in  the  Lord's  Supper."  But  then  the  qualifying 
clause  comes  in,  "  by  the  faithful ;"  and  these  very  words  are 
further  restricted  as  describing,  not  the  bread  and  wine,  but  the 
"thing  signified  thereby."  The  strong  denial  of  "the  Real 
and  bodily,  the  Real  and  essential  Presence,"  which  was  in 
Edward  VI.'s  time  incorporated  in  the  28th  Article,  and  after- 
wards appended  to  the  Prayer  Book  in  his  Declaration  of 
Kneeling,  was  in  Elizabeth's  omitted  altogether,  and  when 
revived  in  Charles  II.'s  time  was  altered  to  meet  the  views 
of  the  then  predominant  High  Church  divines ;  though  the 
Declaration  itself  was  restored  at  the  request  of  the  Puritan 
party.  But  the  words  ^^  real  and  essential  Presence  there 
being^''  were  omitted,  and  the  words  "  corporal  presence''^  sub- 
stituted for  them.  The  consequence  is,  that  while  the  adora- 
tion of  the  elements  or  of  "  any  corporal  presence  of  Christ's 
natural  flesh  and  blood  "  is  strictly  forbidden  as  idolatrous,  the 
worship  of  "  any  real  and  essential  presence  there  being  of 
Christ's  natural  flesh  and  blood "  is  by  implication  not  con- 
demned by  this  Declaration  of  the  Rubric. 

Most  characteristic  of  all  is  the  combination  of  the  two 
tendencies  in  the  words  of  the  administration  of  the  Eucharist. 
In  the  first  Prayer  Book  of  Edward  VI.,  which  retained  as 
much  as  possible  of  the  ancient  forms  both  in  belief  and 
usage,  the  words  were  almost  the  same  as  now  in  the  Roman 
Church,  and  as  formerly  in  the  Sarum  Missal:  "The  body  of 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  which  was  given  for  thee,  preserve  thy 
body  and  soul  unto  everlasting  life."  In  the  second  Prayer 
Book  of  Edward  VI.,  when  the  Swiss  influence  had  taken 
complete  possession  of  the  English  Reformers,  this  clause  was 
dropped,  and  in  its  place  was  substituted  the  words,  "  Take  and 
eat  this  in  remembrance  that  Christ  died  for  thee,  and  feed  on 
Him  in  thy  heart  by  faith  with  thanksgiving."  In  the  Prayer 
Book  of  Elizabeth,  and  no  doubt  by  her  desire,  the  two  clauses 
were  united,  and  so  have  remained  ever  since.  "  Excellently 
well  done  was  it,"  says  an  old  Anglican'  divine,*  "  of  Queen 

*  L'Estrange,  Alliance  of  Divine  Offices,  p.  219. 


92  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

Elizabeth  and  her  Keformers,  to  hnk  both  together;  for 
between  the  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ  in  the  Eucharist,  and 
the  Sacramental  Commemoration  of  His  Passion,  there  is  so 
inseparable  a  league  as  subsist  they  cannot,  except  they  consist.^'' 
"  Excellently  well  done  was  it,"  we  may  add,  to  leave  this 
standing  proof,  in  the  very  heart  of  our  most  solemn  service, 
that  the  two  views  which  have  long  divided  the  Christian 
Church  are  compatible  with  joint  Christian  communion — so 
that  here  at  least  Luther  and  Zwingli  might  feel  themselves  at 
one ;  that  the  Puritan  Edward  and  the  Roman  Mary  might, 
had  they  lived  under  the  Latitudinarian  though  Lutheran  Eliza- 
beth, have  thus  far  worshipped  together. 

What  has  occurred  in  the  Church  of  England  is  an  example 
of  what  might  occur  and  has  occurred  in  other  churches,  not 
so  pointedly  perhaps,  but  not  less  really. 


THE  BODY  AND  BLOOD  OF  CHRIST.  93 


CHAPTER   VI. 

THE    BODY    AND    BLOOD    OF    CHRIST. 

It  may  be  necessary,  in  order  to  justify  and  explain  tte 
preceding  chapter,  to  inquire  into  the  Biblical  meaning  of 
the  expressions  "  the  body  "  and  "  the  blood  of  Christ,"  both 
as  they  occur  in  St.  John's  Gospel,  without  express  reference 
to  the  Eucharist,  and  as  they  occur  in  connection  with  the 
Eucharist  in  the  three  Gospels  and  the  Epistles. 

I.  The  words  in  St.  John's  Gospel  (vi.  53-56)  are  as 
follows :  "  Except  ye  eat  the  flesh  of  the  Son  of  man,  and 
drink  His  blood,  ye  have  no  live  in  you.  Whoso  st.  John's 
eateth  My  flesh,  and  drinketh  My  blood,  hath  Gospel, 
eternal  life ;  and  I  will  raise  him  up  at  the  last  day.  For  My 
flesh  is  meat  indeed,  and  My  blood  is  drink  indeed.  He  that 
eateth  My  flesh,  and  drinketh  My  blood,  dwelleth  in  Me,  and 
I  in  him." 

It  is  said  that  a  great  orator  once  gave  this  advice  to  a 
younger  speaker  who  asked  his  counsel :  "  You  are  more 
anxious  about  words  than  about  ideas.  Remember  that  if 
you  are  thinking  of  words  you  will  have  no  ideas;  but  if  you 
have  ideas,  words  will  come  of  themselves,"  *  That  is  true  as 
regards  ordinary  eloquence.  It  is  no  less  true  in  considering 
the  eloquence  of  religion.  In  theology,  in  religious  conver- 
sation, in  religious  ordinances,  we  ought  as  much  as  possible 
to  try  to  get  beneath  the  phrases  we  use,  and  never  to  rest 
satisfied  with  the  words,  however  excellent,  uatil  we  have 
ascertained  what  we  mean  by  them.  Thus  alone  can  we 
fathom  the  depth  of  such  phrases ;  thus  alone  can  we  protect 
ourselves  against  the  superstition  of  forms  and  the  "  idols  of 
the  market-place ;"  thus  alone  can  we  grasp  the  realities  of 
which  words  and  forms  are  the  shadow. 

The  passage  under  consideration  in  St.  John's  Gospel  at 

♦  Mr.  Pitt  to  Lord  Wellesley.    Reminiscences  of  Archdeacon  Sinclair,  p.  273, 


94  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

once  contains  this  principle,  and  also  is  one  of  the  most 
striking  examples  of  it.  It  is  one  of  those  startling  expres- 
sions used  by  Christ  to  show  us  that  He  intends  to  drive 
us  from  the  letter  to  the  spirit,  by  which  He  shatters  the  crust 
and  shell  in  order  to  force  us  to  the  kernel.  It  is  as  if  He 
said  :  "  It  is  not  enough  for  you  to  see  the  outward  face  of 
the  Son  of  man,  or  hear  His  outward  words,  to  touch  Plis  out- 
ward vesture.  That  is  not  Himself.  It  is  not  enough  that  you 
walk  by  His  side,  or  hear  others  talk  of  Him,  or  use  terms  of 
affection  and  endearment  towards  Him.  You  must  go  deeper 
than  this:  you  must  go  to  His  very  inmost  heart,  to  the  very 
core  and  marrow  of  His  being.  You  must  not  only  read  and 
understand,  but  you  must  mark,  learn,  and  inwardly  digest, 
and  make  part  of  yourselves,  that  which  alone  can  be  part  of 
the  human  spirit  and  conscience."  *  It  expresses,  with  regard 
to  the  life  and  death  of  Jesus  Christ,  the  same  general  truth 
as  is  expressed  when  St.  Paul  says :  "  Put  ye  on  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ " — that  is,  clothe  yourselves  with  His  spirit  as  with 
a  garment.  Or  again  :  "  Let  the  same  mind  be  in  you  as  was 
in  Christ  Jesus."  It  is  the  general  truth  which  our  Lord  him- 
self expressed :  "  I  am  the  Yine ;  ye  are  the  branches."  In 
all  the  meaning  is  the  same ;  but,  inasmuch  as  the  figure  of 
speech  of  which  we  are  now  speaking  is  stronger,  it  also 
expresses  more  fully  and  forcibly  what  the  others  express 
generally.  It  is  the  figure  not  altogether  strange  to  Western 
ears,  but  more  familiar  to  the  Eastern  mind,  in  which  intellectual 
and  moral  instruction  is  represented  under  the  image  of  eating 
and  drinking,  feasting  and  carousing,  digesting  and  nourishing. 
"  I,"  says  Wisdom  in  the  book  of  Ecclesiasticus,-^"  am  the 
mother  of  fair  love,  and  fear,  and  knowledge,  and  holy  hope : 
I  therefore,  being  eternal,  am  given  to  all  my  children.  Come 
unto  me,  all  ye  that  be  desirous  of  me,  and  fill  yourselves  with 
my  fruits.  For  my  memorial  is  sweeter  than  honey,  and 
mine  inheritance  than  the  honeycomb.  They  that  eat  me 
shall  still  hunger  for  more;  they  that  drink  me  shall  still  thirst 
for  more."  f     It  is  no  doubt  to  modern  culture  a  repulsive  | 

*  This  is  well  put  in  an  early  sermon  of  Arnold  on  this  passage,  vol.  i.  Ser- 
mon XXIV. 

t  Ecclesiasticiis  xxiv.  18-21.  Cf.  Prov.  ix.  5.  See  also  Sayings  of  Jewish 
Fathers,  by  C.  Taylor,  quoted  in  Philochristus,  p.  438. 

X  See  Foster's  Essays,  p.  279. 


THE  BODY  AND  BLOOD   OB'  CHRIST.  95 

metaphor,  but  it  is  tlie  same  which  has  entered  into  all 
European  languages  in  speaking  of  the  most  refined  form  of 
mental  appreciation — taste.  If  we  ask  how  this  word  has  thus 
come  to  be  used,  it  is  difficult  to  say,  "All  that  we  know 
about  the  matter  is  this.  Man  has  chosen  to  take  a  metaphor 
from  the  body  and  apply  it  to  the  mind.  'Tact'  from  touch 
is  an  analogous  instance."  *  This  general  usage  is  sufficient  to 
justify  the  expression  without  going  back  to  the  more  bar- 
barous and  literal  practices  in  which,  in  savage  tribes,  the  con- 
querors devour  the  flesh  of  a  hostile  chief  in  order  to  absorb 
his  courage  into  themselves,  or  the  parents  feed  their  children 
with  the  flesh  of  strong  or  spirited  children  in  order  to  give 
them  energy. f 

II.  "We  pass  to  the  kindred  but  yet  more  famous  words  of 
the  Synoptic  Gospels  in  the  account  of  the  Last  The  Synop- 
Supper  (Matt.  xxvi.  26,  28 ;  Mark  xiv.  22,  24 ;  Luke  ^'^  Gospefs, 
xxii.  19,  and  with  a  slight  variation,  22).  And  these  same 
words,  long  before  the  composition  of  the  earliest  of  the  present 
Gospels,  are  recorded  by  St.  Paul  in  his  nari'ative  of  the  same 
event  (1  Cor.  xi.  24,  and  with  the  same  variation  as  in  St. 
Luke),  and  thus  form  the  most  incontestable  and  the  most 
authentic  speech  of  the  Founder  of  our  Religion :  "  This  is  My 
body  ;    This  is  My  blood.'''' 

Two  circumstances  guide  us  to  their  historical  meaning 
before  we  enter  on  them  in  detail.  This  first  is  that,  on  their 
very  face,  they  appear  before  us  as  the  crowning  example  of 
the  style  of  Him  whose  main  characteristic  it  was  that  He 
spoke  and  acted  in  parable,  or  proverb,  or  figure  of  speech. 
The  second  is  that,  though  the  words  of  the  passage,  as  recorded 
in  St.  John's  Gospel,  could  by  no  possibility  have  a  direct 
reference  to  the  Last  Supper,  which  at  the  time  of  the  dis- 
course at  Capernaum,  was  still  far  in  the  distance,  and  to 
which,  even  when  recording  the  sacred  meal,  the  author  of 
that  Gospel  makes  no  allusion,  the  probability  is  that  they 
both  contain  the  moral  principle  that  is  indicated  in  the  out- 
ward act  of  the  Eucharistic  ordinance.  What  this  general 
truth  must  be  we  have  already  indicated :    namely,  that,  how- 

*  Sydney  Smyth,  Lectures  on  Moral  Philosophy,  pp.  153,  154. 
t  Herbert  Speucer,  Sucioluyy,  vol.  i.  pp.  2o\),  ;;09,  300. 


96  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

ever  material  the  expressions,  the  idea  wrapped  up  in  them 
is,  as  in  all  the  teaching  of  Christ,  not  material,  but  spiritual, 
and  that  the  conclusion  to  be  drawn  from  them  is  not  specu- 
lative, but  moral  and  practical.  All  the  converging  sentiments 
of  reverence  for  Him  who  spoke  them,  all  our  instinctive 
feeling  of  the  unity  of  the  Gospel  narratives,  would  lead  us  in 
this  direction  even  without  any  further  inquiry  into  the  par- 
ticular meaning  of  the  separate  phrases.  In  this  general  sense 
the  meaning  of  the  two  words  is  indivisible,  even  as  in  the  older 
Churches  of  Christendom  the  outward  form  of  administra- 
tion confounds  the  two  elements  together — in  the  Roman 
Church  by  representing  both  in  the  bread,  in  the  Greek  Church 
by  mixing  both  in  the  same  moment.  But  there  is  neverthe- 
less a  distinction  which  the  original  institution  expresses,  and 
of  which  the  likeneas  is  preserved  in  all  Protestant  Churches 
by  the  separate  administration  of  the  elements.  Following, 
therefore,  this  distinction  between  the  two  phrases,  we  will 
endeavor  to  ask  what  is  the  Biblical  meaning,  first  of  "  the 
body"  and  then  "  the  blood  "  of  Christ. 

1.  AVhat  are  we  to  suppose  that  our  Lord  intended  when, 
holding  in  His  hands  the  large  round  Paschal  cake,  He  brake 
it  and  said,  "  This  is  My  body  ?"  And  secondly,  what  are  we 
to  suppose  that  St.  Paul  meant  when  he  said,  speaking  of  the 
like  action  of  the  Corinthian  Christians,  "  The  bread  which  we 
break,  is  it  not  the  communion  of  the  body  of  Christ  ?" 

It  is  maintained   in  the  Church  of  Crete  that  the  original 

bread  is  there  preserved  in  fragments,  and  that  this  is  the 

The  Body       literal  perpetuation  of  the  first  sacramental  "  body." 

*heess®nce    Another  like   tradition   prevails  amongst  the  Nes- 

of  Christ's  .  1  » 

character,      tonans.     John  tlie  Baptist  gave  to  Jolm  the  il^van- 

gelist   some  of  the  water  from   the  baptism.     Jesus  gave  to 

John  two  loaves  at  the  Last  Supper.     John  mixed  his  with 

the  water  of  the  Baptism  and  with  the  water  and  blood  which 

he  caught  at  the  Crucifixion,*  ground  it  all  into  powder  and 

mixed  it  with  flour  and  salt  into  a  leaven  which  is  still  used. 

In  all  other  churches  the  bread  used  can  only  by  a  dramatic 

figure  be  supposed  to  represent  the  original  subject  of  the. 

words  of  institution.     The  main  question  is  the  meaning,  in 


*  Cutts,  Christianity  under  the  Crescent,  p.  24. 


THE  BODY  ANI)  BLOOD   OF  CHRIST.  97 

the  Gospels,  of  the  word  "  body."  As  in  other  parts  of  the 
Bible,  the  hand,  the  heart,  the  face  of  God  are  used  for  God 
Himself,  so  the  body,  the  flesh  of  Christ  are  used  for  Christ 
Himself,  for  *His  whole  personality  and  character.  "The 
body,"  "the  flesh,"  "the  bone,"  was  the  Hebrew  expression 
for  the  identity  of  any  person  or  any, thing.  "The  body  of 
heaven "  *  meant  the  very  heaven,  "  the  body  of  the  day  " 
meant  the  self  same  day,f  the  body  of  a  man  meant  his  full 
strength.];  Even  if  we  were  to  suppose  that  He  meant 
literally  His  flesh  to  be  eaten — even  if  we  adopted  the  belief 
which  the  Roman  heathens  ascribed  to  the  early  Christians, 
that  the  sacrament  was  a  cannibals'  feast — even  then,  unless 
Christianity  had  been  the  most  monstrous  of  superstitions, 
this  banquet  of  human  flesh  could  have  been  of  no  use.  It 
would  have  been  not  only  revolting,  but,  by  the  nature  of  the 
case,  unprofitable.  What  is  external  can  never,  except  through 
the  spirit,  touch  the  spirit.  To  suppose  that  the  material  can 
of  itself  reach  the  spiritual  is  not  religion,  but  magic.  As  in 
the  communion  with  our  actual  friends  it  is  not  the  counte- 
nance that  we  value,  but  the  mind  which  speaks  through  the 
countenance — it  is  not  the  sound  of  the  words,  but  the  mean- 
ing of  the  words  that  we  delight  to  hear — so  also  must  it  be  in 
communion  with  One  who,  the  more  we  know  and  think  of  Him, 
can  have  no  other  than  a  moral  and  spiritual  relation  to  us. 
"After  the  flesh  we  know  Him  no"  more."  It  is,  as  the 
English  Prayer  Book  expresses  it,  "  His  one  oblation  of  Him- 
self once  oflEered."  It  is  not  the  mere  name  of  Jesus  "  which 
sounds  so  sweet  to  a  believer's  ear,"  but  the  whole  mass  of 
vivifying  associations  which  that  name  brings  with  it.  The 
picture  of  Jesus  which  we  require  is  not  that  fabled  portrait 
sent  to  King  Abgarus,  or  that  yet  more  fabled  portrait 
impressed  on  the  handkerchief  of  Veronica,  but  the  living 
image  of  His  sweet  reasonableness.  His  secret  of  happiness. 
His  method  of  addressing  the  human  heart.  When,  some 
years  ago,  one  of  the  few  learned  divines  of  the  Church  of 
France,  the  Pere  Gratry,  wished  to  correct  some  erroneous 
representations  of  Christ,  he  sought  for  the  true  picture — le 
vrai  tableau — not  in  the  traditions  of  his  own  Church,  nor  in 

*  Ex.  xxiv.  10.  t  Gen.  xvii,  33,  26.  ±  Job  xxi.  83. 

5 


98  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

the  consecrated  wafer,  but  in  the  grand  and  impressive  por- 
trait drawn  by  the  profound  insight  of  the  foremost  of 
Protestant  theologians  in  the  closing  volumes  of  Ewald's 
"  History  of  the  People  of  Israel."  The  true  *'  sacred  heart " 
of  Jesus  is  not  the  physical  bleeding  anatomical  dissection  of 
the  Saviour's  heart,  such  as  appeared  to  the  sickly  visionary  of 
France  at  Paray-le-Monial  in  the  seventeenth  century,  but  the 
wide  embracing  toleration  and  compassion  which  even  to  the 
holiest  sons  and  daughters  of  France  at  that  time  was  as 
a  sealed  book.  The  true  cross  of  Christendo_n  is  not  one  or 
all  of  the  wooden  fragments,  be  they  ever  so  genuine,  found, 
or  imagined  to  be  found,  by  the  Empress  Helena,  but,  in  the 
words  of  Goethe,  "  the  depth  of  divine  sorrow"  of  which  the 
cross  is  an  emblem.  "  It  is,"  as  Luther  said,  "  that  cross  of 
Christ  which  is  divided  throughout  the  whole  world  not  in 
the  particles  of  broken  wood,  but  that  cross  which  comes  to 
each  as  his  own  portion  of  life.  Thou,  therefore,  cast  not  thy 
portion  from  thee,  but  rather  take  it  to  thee — thy  suffering, 
whatever  it  be — as  a  most  sacred  relic,  and  lay  it  up  not  in  a 
golden  or  silver  shrine,  but  in  a  golden  heart,  a  heart  clothed 
with  gentle  charity."  Perhaps  the  strongest  of  all  these 
expressions  is  "  the  Spirit "  applied  to  the  innermost  part  alike 
of  God  and  of  man.  It  is  breath,  zvind*  On  one  occasion 
we  are  told  that  our  Saviour  actually  breathed  on  His  disciples. 
But  that  breath,  even  though  it  was  the  most  sacred  breath  of 
Christ,  was  not  itself  the  Spirit — it  was,  and  could  be,  only  its 
emblem. 

And  as  the  cross,  the  picture,  the  heart,  the  breath  of  Christ 
must  of  necessity  point  to  something  different  from  the  mere 
outward  form  and  symbol,  so  also  "  the  body,"  which  is 
represented  in  the  sacramental  bread  or  spoken  of  in  the 
sacramental  words,  must  of  necessity  be  not  the  mere  flesh 
and  bones  of  the  Redeemer,  but  that  undying  love  of 
truth,  that  indefatigable  beneficence,  that  absolute  resigna- 
tion to  His  Father's  will,  by  which  alone  we  recognize  His 
unique  personality.  The  words  that  He  spoke  (so  He  Him- 
self said)  were  the  spirit  and  the  life  of  His  existence — those 
words  of  which  it  was  said  at  the  close  of  a  long  and  vener- 

*  Sydney  Smith,  Lectures  on  Moral  Philosophy,  p.  12. 


THE  BOD  7  AND  BLOOD   OF  CHRIST.  99 

able  career  by  one  *  who  knew  well  the  history  of  Christianity, 
that  they,  and  they  alone,  contain  the  primal  and  indefeasible 
truths  of  the  Christian  religion  which  shall  not  pass  away. 
That  character  and  those  words  have  been,  and  arc,  and  will 
be,  the  true  sustenance  of  the  human  spirit,  and  the  heavenly 
manna  of  which  it  may  be  said,  almost  without  a  figure,  that 
"  He  who  gathers  much  has  nothing  over,  and  even  he  who 
gathers  little  has  no  lack."  Such,  amidst  many  inconsistencies, 
was  the  definition  of  "  the  body  of  Christ "  even  by  some  of 
the  ancient  fathers,  Origen,  Jerome,  even  Gregory  called  the 
Great.  Such,  amidst  many  contradictions,  was  the  nobler 
view  maintained  at  least  in  one  remarkable  passage  even  in 
the  Roman  Missal  which  states  that  where  the  sacrament  can- 
not be  had  "sufiicit  vera  fides  et  bona  voluntas.  Tantum 
crede  et  manducasti."  It  has  been  well  said  by  a  devout 
Scottish  bishop,  in  speaking  of  tliis  subject :  "  We  should  not 
expect  to  arrive  at  the  secret  of  Hamlet  by  eating  a  bit  of 
Shakespeare's  body ;  and  so,  though  we  ate  ever  so  much  of 
the  material  bones  or  flesh  of  the  Founder  of  the  Eucharist, 
we  should  not  arrive  one  whit  nearer  to  'the  mind  which 
was  in  Christ  Jesus,'  "  f  It  is  only  by  the  mind  that  we  can 
appropriate  the  mind  and  heart  of  Christ — only  by  the  spirit 
that  we  can  appropriate  His  spirit.  And  therefore  (it  is  an 
old  truth,  but  one  which  requires  to  be  again  and  again 
repeated)  all  acts  of  so-called  communion  with  Christ  have  no 
Biblical  or  spiritual  meaning  except  in  proportion  as  they 
involve  or  express  a  moral  fellowship  with  the  Holy,  the  Just, 
the  Pure,  and  the  Truthful,  wherever  His  likeness  can  be 
found — except  in  proportion  as  our  spirits,  minds,  and  char- 
acters move  in  unison  with  the  parables  of  the  Prodigal  Son, 
and  the  Good  Samaritan,  and  the  Faithful  Servant,  and  the 
Good  Shepherd  ;  with  the  Beatitudes  on  the  Galilean  mountain, 
with  the  resignation  of  Gethsemane,  with  the  courage  of 
Calvary.  In  proportion  as  the  ordinance  of  the  Eucharist 
enables  us  to  do  this,  it  is  a  true  partaking  of  what  the 
Gospels  intended  by  the  body  of  Christ ;  in  proportion  as  it 
fails  to  do  this,  it  is  no  partaking  of  anything. 


♦  Milman's  History  of  Latin  Christianity,  vol.  vi.  p.  638. 
t  Memoir  of  Bishop  Ewing. 


100  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

This  is  what  is  adumbrated  in  the  English  Communion 
Office,  and  by  feebler  expressions  in  the  Roman  Office,  when  it 
is  said  that  every  communicant  pledges  himself  to  walk  in  the 
steps  of  the  great  Self-sacrificer,  and  to  offer  himself  a  sacrifice 
of  body,  soul,  and  spirit  to  the  Heavenly  Father.  We  must 
incorporate  and  incarnate  in  ourselves — that  is,  in  our  moral 
natures — the  substance,  the  moral  substance,  of  the  teaching 
and  character  of  Jesus  Christ.  That  is  the  only  true  transub- 
stantiation.  We  must  raise  ourselves  above  the  base  and 
mean  and  commonplace  trivialties  and  follies  of  the  world  and 
of  the  Church  to  the  lofty  ideal  of  the  Gospel  story.  That  is 
the  only  true  elevation  of  the  Host.  Nor  is  there  anything 
fanciful  or  overstrained  in  the  metaphor,  when  we  grasp  the 
substance  of  which  it  is  the  sign.  The  record  of  the  life  and 
death  of  Jesus  Christ,  however  we  interpret  it,  is,  and  must  be, 
the  body,  the  substance,  the  backbone  of  Christendom. 

2.  And  this  leads  us  to  pass  from  the  meaning  of  the  phrase 
in  the  Gospels  to  its  meaning  in  the  Epistles.  St.  Paul  dis- 
The  Body  is  tinctly  tells  US  in  the  same  Epistle  as  that  in  which 
the  Church.  \q  gives  the  earliest  nan-ative  of  the  Supper  (1  Cor. 
X.  16,  17),  "For  we  being  many  are  one  bread  and  one 
body  " — that  is,  as  the  bread  is  one  loaf  made  up  of  many 
particles  and  crumbs,  so  the  Christian  society  is  one  body  made 
up  of  many  members,  and  that  body  is  the  body  of  Christ. 
Christ  is  gone ;  the  body,  the  outward  f onii  and  substance  that 
takes  His  place,  is  the  assembly,  the  congregation  of  all  His 
true  followers.  In  this  sense  "  the  body  of  Christ "  is  (as  is 
expressed  in  the  second  prayer  of  the  English  Communion 
Office)  "  the  blessed  company  of  all  faithful  people."  This  is 
the  "body" — the  commimity  and  fellowship  one  with  another 
which  the  Corinthian  Christians  were  so  slow  to  discern.* 
This  is  the  sense  in  which  the  words  are  used  in  the  vast 
majority  of  instances  where  the  expression  occurs  in  St.  Paul's 
Epistles.  \  It  is  a  use  of  the  word  which  no  doubt  varies  from 
that  in  which  it  is   employed  by  Christ   Himself,  and  thus 

*  1  Cor.  xi.  29.  Even  if  the  words  were  as  in  the  English  Authorized  Version 
"  not  discerning:  the  Lord's  body,"  the  sense  would  still  be  governed  by  the 
unifiirin  lant^uaKr'  of  the  Apostle.  But  the  meaning  is  brought  out  still  more 
strongly  in  the  geiuiine  text,  where  it  is  simply  "not  discerning  the  body." 

+  Coiiipare  Rum.  xii.  4,  5;  1  Cor.  xii.  13,  13,  20,  27;  Eph.  iii.  6,  ii.  16,  iv.  4,  12, 
Itl;  Col.  1.  18,  iii.  15,  19. 


THE  BODY  AND  BLOOD  OF  CHRIST.  101 

shows  the  extraordinary  freedom  of  the  Apostle  in  dealing  even 
with  the  most  sacred  phrases.  But  the  doctrine  is  the  same  as 
that  which  in  substance  pervades  the  general  teaching  of  our 
Lord — namely,  that  the  wise,  the  good,  the  suffering  every- 
Avhere  are  His  substitutes.  "Wheresoever  two  or  three  are 
gathered  together,  there  am  I  in  the  midst  of  them."  "  He 
that  receiveth  you  receiveth  Me."  The  whole  point  of  the 
description  of  the  Last  Judgment  is  that  even  the  good 
heathens  having  never  heard  His  name,  yet  have  seen  Him 
and  served  Him,  and  when  they  ask  Him  "When  saw  we 
Thee  ? "  He  answers,  without  hesitation  or  reserve :  "  Inasmuch 
as  ye  did  it  to  the  least  of  these  My  brethren,  ye  did  it  unto 
Me.  It  was  I  who  was  hungry  and  ye  gave  Me  food.  It 
was  I  who  was  thirsty,  and  ye  gave  Me  drink.  It  was  I  who 
was  a  friendless  stranger,  and  ye  took  Me  in.  It  was  I  who 
was  naked,  and  ye  clothed  Me.  It  was  I  who  was  on  my 
sick-bed,  and  ye  visited  Me.  It  was  I  who  was  shut  up  in 
prison,  and  ye  visited  Me."  These  good  deeds,  wherever 
practised,  are  the  true  signs  that  Christ  and  Christianity  have 
been  there.  Even  if  practised  without  naming  His  name,  they 
are  still  the  trophies  of  the  victory  o\er  e\il,  for  which  He 
lived  and  died;  they  are  on  the  desert  island  of  this  mortal 
existence  the  footmarks  which  show  that  something  truly 
human,  and  therefore  truly  divine,  has  passed  that  Avay. 

If  this  be  so — if  every  faithful  servant  of  truth  and  goodness 
throughout  the  world  is  the  representative  of  the  Founder  of 
our  faith — if  every  friendless  sufferer  to  whom  we  can  render  a 
service  is  as  if  Christ  Himself  appeared  to  us — then,  not  in  the 
scholastic,  but  certainly  in  the  Biblical  sense  of  the  word,  there 
is  a  Real  Presence  diffused  through  om'  whole  daily  inter- 
course. It  is  the  truth  which  the  Swiss  Reformer  expressed, 
who,  seeing  a  number  of  famished  people  around  the  church- 
door,  said :  "  I  will  not  enter  the  church  over  the  body  of 
Christ."  And  lest  this  should  seem  to  be  a  vague  or  unimpres- 
sive or  unedifying  doctrine,  we  venture  to  draw  out  its  con- 
sequences more  at  length. 

The  whole  of  Christendom,  the  whole  of  humanity,  is,  in 
this  sense,  one  body  and  many  members.  In  the  vast  variety 
of  human  gifts  and  human  characters,  it  is  only  by  this  sym- 
pathy, forbearance,  appreciation  of  that  which  one  has  and  the 


102  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

other  lacks,  that  we  reach  tliat  ideal  of  society  such  as  St.  Paul 
imagined,  such  as  Butler  in  his  Sermon  on  Human  Nature  so 
well  sets  forth.  It  is  the  old  Roman  fable  of  Menenius  Agrippa 
taken  up  and  sanctitied  by  the  Christian  Apostle.  It  is,  as  the 
French  would  say,  the  recognition  in  the  Bible  of  the  "  solidar- 
ity "  of  peoples,  of  churches,  and  of  men.  It  is  the  protest 
against  the  isolated  selfishness  in  which  Ave  often  shut  ourselves 
up  against  wider  sympathies.  And  as  a  nation  we  are  one 
body,  drawn  together  by  the  long  tradition  and  lineage  which 
have  made  us  of  one  flesh  and  blood.  Blood  is  thicker  than 
water.  Except  we  acknowledge  the  unity  of  our  common 
kindred,  we  have  no  true  national  life  abiding  in  us.  "VVe  are 
one  "  body  politic " — a  fine  expression  which  St.  Paul  has 
taught  us.  Our  unity  as  Englishmen  is  also  our  unity  in  Him 
of  whom  all  the  tribes  and  families  in  earth  are  named.  We 
were  made  one  nation  and  one  race  by  the  order  of  His  prov- 
idence; and  they  who  make  more  of  their  party  or  their  sect 
than  of  their  country  are  refusing  communion  with  the  body 
of  Him  "  whose  fulness  filleth  all  in  all."  And  also  as  a 
Church,  whether  the  Church  Universal  or  the  Church  of  our 
country,  we  are  one  body ;  for  the  likenesses  of  character  and 
opinion  and  pursuit  which  unite  us,  whether  within  the  pale  of 
the  Church  or  without  it,  are  but  as  so  many  bones  and  sinews, 
tissues  and  fibres,  whereby  "  the  whole  body,  being  fitly  joined 
together  and  compacted  by  that  which  every  joint  supplieth, 
maketh  increase  of  the  body  unto  the  edifying  of  itself  in 
love."  And  there  is,  also,  the  one  body  in  which  there  is  the 
one  eternal  conmiunion  of  the  living  and  the  dead.  Here  the 
partitions  of  flesh  fall  away.  Here  there  is  but  the  communion 
of  the  spirit.  But  that  communion  is  the  deepest  and  the  most 
enduring  of  all,  for  it  is  beyond  the  reach  of  time  or  chance. 
It  can  never  be  broken  except  by  our  own  negligence  and  self- 
ishness. Whether  it  be  the  departure  of  a  soul  in  the  fulness 
of  its  glory  and  its  usefulness,  or  of  a  soul  burdened  wdth  the 
decay  and  weariness  of  its  long  pilgrimage,  the  union  may  and 
shall  still  subsist.  "  AVe  do  not  count  by  months  and  years 
where  they  are  gone  to  dwell ; "  we  know  only  that  they  are  in 
Him  and  with  Him  in  whom  we  also  live  and  move  and  have 
our  being.     They  live  because  God  lives,  and  we  live  or  may 


THE  BODY  AND  BLOOD   OF  CHRIST.  103 

live  with  tliem  in  tliat  unity  of  soul  and  spiiit  wliicli  is  beyond 
the  grave  and  gate  of  death. 

3.  We  now  propose  to  take  the  expression,  the  blood  of 
Christ,  whether  as  used  in  the  Gospels  or  in  the  Epistles.* 
First,  is  it  the  actual  physical  blood  shed  on  the  The  blood  of 
cross  or  flowing  in  the  Redeemer's  veins  ?  In  the  Christ. 
Middle  Ages  it  was  not  an  uncommon  belief  that  drops  of  this 
blood  had  been  preserved  in  various  localities.  There  was  the 
legend  of  the  Sangrail  or  Holy  Cup,  or,  as  some  used  to  read 
it,  the  Sangreal  or  the  "  real  blood,",  said  to  have  been  brought 
by  Joseph  of  Ariinathea  to  Glastonbury  and  sought  for  by  the 
Knights  of  King  Arthur's  Round  Table.  There  is  still  shown 
in  the  church  of  Brussels  a  phial  containing  the  blood — "  the 
precious  blood,"  as  it  is  called — said  to  have  been  brought 
back  by  the  Crusaders.  There  was  another  phial,  which  the 
Master  of  the  Temple  gave  to  Henry  HI.,  and  which  he  carried 
in  state  from  St.  Paul's  to  Westminster  Abbey,  and  of  which 
drops  were  also  shown  at  Ashridge  and  Hailes  Abbey.  The 
Abbey  of  Fecamp  was  also  built  to  receive  a  casket  which 
brought  the  like  sacred  liquid  in  a  miraculous  boat  to  the  shores 
of  Normandy.  But  even  where  these  relics  are  not  at  once  con- 
demned as  fabulous  or  spurious,  the  shrines  which  contain 
them  are  comparatively  deserted.  The  pilgrims  to  the  churches 
at  Fecamp  and  Brussels  cannot  be  named  in  comparison  with 
the  crowds  that  flock  to  the  modern  centres  of  French  devotion.^ 
And  even  as  far  back  as  the  thirteenth  century  Thomas  Aqui- 
nas speaks  of  these  literal  drops  with  indifference. 

Nor,  again,  was  the  actual  bloodshed  the  most  conspicuous 
characteristic  of  the  Crucifixion.  Modes  of  death  there  are 
where  the  scaffold  is  deluged  with  blood — where  the  specta- 
tors, the  executioners,  the  victims,  are  plunged  in  the  crimson 
stream.  Not  so  in  the  few  faint  drops  which  trickled  from  the 
hands  and  feet  of  the  Crucified,  or  which  flowed  from  His 
wounded  side.  There  was  pallor,  and  thirst,  and  anguish,  but 
the  physical  bloodshed  was  the  last  thing  that  a  by-standi-r 
would  have  noticed.     Nor,  again,  has  it  been  supposed  in  the 

*  The  phrase  "  body  of  Christ "  (with  the  exception  of  Heb.  x.  5,  10)  does 
not  occur  in  other  than  St.  Paul's  Epistles.  But  the  phrase  "the  blood  of 
Christ  "  occurs  also  in  the  Epistles  of  St.  Peter  and  St.  John  and  that  to  the 
Hebrews. 


104  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

Roman  Catholic  Church,  except  by  very  ignorant  persons,  that 
the  wine  in  the  Eucharist  is  the  actual  physical  blo©d  of  Christ. 
There  is,  indeed,  a  small  chapel  on  the  shores  of  the  Lake  of 
Bolsena  in  which  are  pointed  out  spots  of  blood  as  from  the 
sacramental  wine,  and  there  was  at  Wilsnake,  in  the  north  of 
Germany,  a  napkin  marked  w  ith  similar  stains.  But  tliese  are 
now^  treated  either  with  contempt  or  incredulity,  or  at  the  most 
as  exceptional  portents. 

It  is  obvious,  then,  that,  alike  in  the  Catholic  and  Protestant 
world,  the  expression  "Blood  of  Christ"  is  by  all  thinking 
Christians  regarded  as  a  figure  of  speech,  sacred  and  solemn, 
but  still  pointing  to  something  beyond  itself.  What  is  that 
something  ?  The  wine  is  confessedly  the  emblem  of  the  blood 
of  Christ.  But  the  blood  of  Christ  itself,  when  used  as  a  re- 
ligious term,  must  also  be  the  emblem  of  some  spiritual  reality. 
What  is  that  spiritual  reality  ? 

^^^lat  is  the  moral  significance  of  blood  ?  It  may  be  mani- 
fold. 

There  is  its  peculiar  meaning  in  the  crimson  color  which 
overspreads  the  face  in  moments  of  great  emotion.  It  has  been 
well  said  :  "  If  God  made  the  blood  of  man,  did  He 
not  much  more  make  that  feeling  which  summons 
the  blood  to  his  face,  and  makes  fit  the  sign  of  guilt?"  *  and, 
we  must  also  add,  of  just  indignation,  of  lionest  shame,  of  in- 
genuous modesty  ?  It  would  be  childish  to  speak  of  the  mere 
color  or  liquid  of  the  blood  in  these  cases  as  the  thing  impor- 
tant. It  would  be  unphilosophical,  on  the  other  hand,  not  to 
acknowledge  the  value  of  the  moral  quality  of  which  the  blood 
in  these  cases  is  the  sure  sign  and  saci'ament.  There  is  a 
famous  passage  in  Terence  in  speaking  of  the  features  of  a 
young  man :  "  He  blushes — his  face  glows  with  scarlet ;  he  is 
saved."  {^Eruhruit ;  salva  res  est.)  He  was  saved  by  that 
which  the  mantling  blood  in  his  cheek  represented. 

There  is  another  idea  of  which  blood  is  the  emblem.     It  is 

the  idea  of  suffering.     A  wound,  a  blow,  produces  the  effusion 

of  blood,  and  blood  therefore  suggests  the  idea  of 

pain.     This  is  no  doubt  part  of  the  thought  in  such 

passages  as  "  This  is  He  that  came  by  water  and  by  blood,"  or 

*  Sydney  Siiiitli,  lActiires  on  Moral  Philosophy,  p.  11. 


THE  BODY  AND  BLOOD   OF  CHRIST.  105 

"  Without  shedding  of  blood  there  is  no  remission,"  or  again 
in  the  magnificent  description  of  the  conqueror  of  Edom  (Isa. 
Ixiii.  1-3)  advancing  knee-deep  in  the  blood,  whether  of  himself 
or  his  enemies,  the  lively  expression  of  the  truth  that  without 
exertion  there  can  be  no  ^dctory — that  "  via  crucis,  via  lucis.^'' 
It  is  the  thought  so  well  set  forth  in  Keble's  hymn  on  the  Cir- 
cumcision : 

Like  sacrificial  wine 

Poured  on  a  victim's  head 
Are  tbiose  few  precious  drops  of  Thine 

Now  first  to  offering  led. 

They  are  the  pledge  and  seal 

Of  Christ's  unswerving  faith 
Given  to  His  Sire,  our  souls  to  heal, 

Although  it  cost  His  death.* 

But  these  and  all  other  moral  senses  which  we  can  attach  to 
the  word  blood  run  up  into  a  more  general  and  also  a  more 
Bibhcal  significance.  "  The  blood  of  a  living  thing  The  inner- 
is  the  life  thereof."  This  expression  of  the  old  ^^f^^^^j 
Jewish  Law,  many  times  repeated,  w^ell  harmonizes  Christ. 
with  the  language  of  Harvey  :  "  Blood  is  the  fountain  of  life, 
the  first  to  live,  and  the  last  to  die,  and  the  primary  seat  of  the 
animal  soul."  -j-  A^^ien  any  one  was  described  as  shedding  his 
blood  for  another,  or  sealing  a  testament  or  Avill  or  covenant 
with  his  blood,  it  was  meant  that  he  sealed  or  signed  it  with 
whatever  was  most  precious,  most  a  part  of  himself.  The 
blood  is  the  life-blood — is,  as  it  were,  the  very  soul  of  those 
who  give  it.  The  spot  of  blood  placed  on  the  altar,  whether 
of  human  or  animal  sacrifice,  the  streak  of  blood  from  the 
Paschal  lamb  on  the  forehead  of  Jew  or  Samaritan,  repre- 
sented the  vital  spark  of  the  dead  creature  which  a  few  mo- 
ments before  had  been  full  of  life  and  vigor. 

As,  then,  the  body  of  Christ,  in   the  language  of  Scrip- 
ture, means  (as  we  saw)  one  of  two  things — either  His  general 
character  and  moral  being,  or  the  Christian  and  hu- 
man society  which  now  represents  Him — so  the  blood        ^^^' 
of  Christ  in  like  manner  means  the  inmost  essence  of  His  char- 
acter, the  self  of  His  self,  or  else  the  inmost  essence  of  the  Chris - 

*  This  is  well  set  forth  in  an  interesting  volume  lately  published  by  Dr. 
Story,  of  Rosneath,  entitled  Creed  and  Conduct  (pp.  77-92). 

f  Lev.  xvii.  4.  See  Speaker's  Commentary,  vol.  i.  part  ii.  p.  836;  Ewald,  An- 
tiquities of  the  People  of  Israel,  pp.  35-41,  44-62  (Eng.  transl.). 

6* 


106  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

tian  society,  the  life-blood  of  Christendom  and  humanity.  And 
therefore  we  must  ask  yet  another  question  :  What  is  the 
most  essential  characteristic,  the  most  precious  part  of  Christ, 
the  most  peculiar  and  vivifying  element  of  Christendom?  This 
question  is  not  so  easy  to  answer  in  a  single  word.  Diifer- 
ent  minds  would  take  a  different  view  of  that  which  to 
them  constitutes  the  one  thing  needful,  the  one  indispensable 
clement  of  the  Christian  life.  To  some  it  would  seem  to  be 
freedom,  to  others  intellectual  progress,  to  others  justice,  to 
others  truth,  to  others  purity.  But  looking  at  the  Bible  only, 
and  taking  the  Bible  as  a  whole — asking  what  is  at  once  the 
most  comprehensive  and  the  most  peculiar  characteristic  of  the 
life  of  Jesus  Christ  and  of  the  best  spirits  of  Christendom — we 
cannot  go  far  astray  in  adopting  the  only  definition  of  the  blood 
of  Christ  which  has  come  down  to  us  from  primitive  times.  It 
is  contained  in  one  of  the  three  undisputed,  or  at  any  rate 
least  disputed,  epistles  of  Ignatius  of  Antioch.  "  The  blood  of 
Christ,"  he  said,  "  is  love  or  charity."  *  With  this  unquestion- 
ably agrees  the  language  of  the  New  Testament  as  to  the  es- 
sential characteristic  of  God  and  of  Christ.  Love,  unselfish 
love,  is  there  spoken  of  again  and  again  as  the  fundamental 
essence  of  the  highest  life  of  God ;  and  it  is  also  evident  on 
the  face  of  the  Gospels  that  it  is  the  fundamental  motive  and 
characteristic  of  the  life  and  death  of  Christ.  It  is  this  love 
stronger  than  death,  this  love  manifesting  itself  in  death,  this 
love  willing  to  spend  itself  for  others,  that  is  the  blood  of  the 
life  in  which  God  is  well  pleased.  Not  the  pain  or  torture  of 
the  cross — for  that  was  alike  odious  to  God  and  useless  to 
man — but  the  love,  the  self-devotion,  the  generosity,  the  mag- 
nanimity, the  forgiveness,  the  toleration,  the  compassion,  of 
which  that  blood  was  the  expi-ession,  and  of  which  that  life 
and  death  were  the  fulfilment.  "  Non  sanguine  sed  pietate 
placatur  Deus  "  is  the  maxim  of  more  than  one  of  the  Fathers. 
"  What  is  the  blood  of  Christ  ?"  asked  Livingstone  of  his  own 
solitary  soul  in  the  last  months  of  his  African  wanderings. 
"  It  is  Himself.  It  is  the  inherent  and  everlasting  mercy  of 
God  made  apparent  to  human  eyes  and  ears.  The  everlasting 
love  was  disclosed  by  our  Lord's  life  and  death.     It  showed 

*  Ignatius  Ad  Trail.  8. 


THE  BODY  AND  BLOOD   OF  CHRIST.  107 

that  God  forgives  because  He  loves  to  forgive.  He  rules,  if 
possible,  by  smiles  and  not  by  frowns.  Pain  is  only  a  means 
of  enforcing  love,"  *  Tbe  charity  of  God  to  men,  the  charity 
of  men  to  one  another  with  all  its  endless  consequences — if  it 
be  not  this,  what  is  it  ?  If  there  be  any  other  characteristic  of 
Christ  more  essential  to  His  true  nature,  any  message  of  the 
gospel  more  precious  than  this,  let  us  know  it.  But  till  we 
are  told  of  any  other  we  may  rest  contented  with  believing 
that  it  is  that  which  St.  John  himself  describes  as  the  essence 
of  the  nature  of  God  ("  God  is  love  "),  which  St.  Paul  de- 
scribes as  the  highest  of  the  virtues  of  man  ("  The  greatest  of 
these  is  love").  It  is  that  which  Charles  Wesley,  in  one  of  his 
most  beautiful  hymns,  describes  as  the  best  answer  to  the  soul 
inquiring  after  God :  not  justification  or  conversion,  but — 

Come,  O  Thou  Traveller  unkiio\\ii ! 

Whom  still  I  hold,  but  cannot  see; 
Speak,  or  Thou  never  hence  shalt  move, 
Ajid  tell  me  if  Thy  name  be  Love. 
In  vain  I  have  not  wept  and  strove: 
Th3'  natui-e  and  Thy  name  is  Love. 

It  is  that  which  John  Keble,  in  a  poem  of  which  the  senti- 
ment might  have  been  from  WTiichcote  or  Schleiermacher, 
describes  as  the  best  answer  to  the  inquiry  after  the  religious 
life  of  man :  not  the  sacraments,  not  the  creeds,  but — 

Wouldst  thou  the  life  of  souls  discern? 

Nor  human  wisdom  nor  divine 
Helps  thee  by  aught  beside  to  learn: 

Love  is  life's  only  sign. 

It  is  that  which  Ken,  in  a  fine  passage  at  the  beginning  of  his 
"  Approach  to  the  Altar,"  thus  states  with  a  bold  latitudinari- 
anism,  like  indeed  to  the  theology  of  his  hymns,  but  widely  at 
N-ariance  with  the  dogmatic  rigidity  of  the  school  to  which  he 
belonged :  "  To  obtain  eternal  life,  all  I  am  to  do  is  reduced  to 
one  word  only,  and  that  is  '  love.'  This  is  the  first  and  great 
command,  which  comprehends  all  others — the  proper  evangel- 
ical grace The  love  of  God  is  a  grace  rather  felt  than 

defined.  It  is  the  general  tendency  and  inclination  of  the 
whole  man,  of  all  his  heart  and  soul  and  strength,  of  all  his 
powers  and  affections,  and  of  the  utmost  strength  of  them  all, 

*  Livingstone' s  Journal,  August  5,  1873.    The  word  used  is  "What  is  the 
atonement?"    But  he  evidently  meant  the  same  thing. 


108  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

to  God  as  his  chief  and  only  and  perfect  and  infinite  good." 
It  is  therefore  not  only  from  Calvary,  but  from  Bethlehem 
and  Nazareth  and  Capernaum — not  only  from  the  Crucifixion, 
but  from  all  His  acts  of  mercy  and  words  of  wisdom — that  "  the 
blood  of  Christ "  derives  its  moral  significance.  As  so  often 
in  ordinary  human  lives,  so  in  that  Divine  life,  the  death  was 
the  crowning  consummation ;  but  as  in  the  best  human  lives, 
as  in  the  best  deaths  of  the  best  men,  so  also  in  that  Divine 
death,  the  end  was  of  value  only  or  chiefly  because  it  corre- 
sponded so  entirely  to  the  best  of  lives.  Doubtless  love  is  not 
the  only  idea  of  perfection — kindness  is  not  the  only  idsa  of 
Heaven.  The  terrible  sufferings  of  this  present  world  are,  wo 
all  know,  very  difficult  to  reconcile  Avith  the  belief  that  its 
Maker  is  all-loving.  Yet  still  the  gospel  story  leaves  no  doubt 
that  unselfish  kindness  and  compassion  were  the  leading  prin- 
ciples of  the  life  of  Christ;  and  the  history  of  Christendom 
leaves  no  doubt  that  unselfish  benevolence  and  kindness  are 
the  most  valuable  elements  of  the  life  of  society. 

If  we  now  turn  to  the  Sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper,  and 
ask  in  what  special  way  the  fruit  of  the  grape,  the  chalice  of 
the  Communion,  represent  the  love  of  Christ  and  the  love  of 
His  followers,  the  answer  is  twofold. 

First,  as  being  at  a  farewell  feast,  it  was  the  likeness  of  the 
blood  shed,  as  we  have  already  noticed,  in  the  signing  and 
sealing  of  treaties  or  covenants.  The  earliest  account  of  the 
Theattesta-  institution  of  the  Eucharist  (1  Cor.  xi.  25)  expresses 
tioi-  this  directly.     Not  "  This  is  my  blood,"  but  "  This 

is  the  New  Covenant  in  my  blood.''''  It  was  the  practice  of  the 
ancient  Arabs  to  sign  their  treaties  with  blood  drawn  from 
their  own  veins.  Even  in  modern  times,  Avhen  the  Scottish 
peasants  and  nobles  desired  to  express  their  adhesion  to  the 
Solemn  League  and  Covenant,  they  in  some  instances  wrote 
their  names  with  their  blood.  There  are  also  examples  of 
conspirators  binding  themselves  together  by  the  practice  of 
drinking  a  cup  filled  with  human  blood,  as  the  most  solemn 
mode  of  testifying  their  adhesion  to  each  other.  There  is  again 
the  expression  and  the  image  familiar  to  all  of  us,  of  the  sol- 
dier, the  martyr,  the  patriot  shedding  his  blood  for  the  good 
of  his  country,  his  cause,  his  religion.  From  the  blood  of  the 
righteous  Abel  to  the   blood  of  Zacharias  who  was  slain  be- 


TBE  BODT  AND  BLOOD  OF  CHRIST.  109 

tween  the  temple  and  the  altar,  from  the  blood  of  Zacharias  to 
the  last  soldier  who  shed  his  blood  on  behalf  of  his  country,  it 
is  the  supreme  offering  which  any  human  being  can  make  to 
loyalty,  to  duty,  to  faith.  And  of  all  these  examples  of  the 
sacrifice  of  life,  of  the  shedding  of  blood,  the  most  sacred,  the 
most  efficacious,  is  that  which  was  offered  and  shed  on  Cal- 
vary, because  it  was  the  offering  made  not  for  war  or  aggres- 
sion, but  for  peace  and  reconciliation  ;  not  in  hatred,  but  in 
love ;  not  by  a  feeble,  erring,  ordinary  mortal,  but  by  Him  who 
is  by  all  of  us  acknowledged  to  be  the  Ideal  of  man  and  thp 
Likeness  of  God.  It  is,  therefore,  this  final  and  supreme  test 
of  our  love  and  loyalty  that  the  cup  of  the  Eucharist  suggests 
— our  willingness,  if  so  be,  to  sacrifice  our  own  selves,  to  shed 
our  own  blood  for  what  we  believe  to  be  right  and  true  and 
for  the  good  of  others. 

And  secondly,  the  use  of  wine  to  represent  the  blood — that 
is,  the  love — of  Christ,  conveys  to  us  the  profound  thought 
that  as  wine  makes  glad  the  heart  of  man,  so  the  The  enthu- 
love  of  God,  the  love  of  Christ,  the  love  of  man  for  siasm. 
God  and  men,  makes  glad  the  heart  of  those  who  come  with- 
in its  invigorating,  enkindling  influence.  In  that  fierce  war 
waged  in  the  fifteenth  century  by  the  Bohemian  nation  in 
order  to  regain  the  use  of  the  sacramental  wine  which  the 
Roman  Church  had  forbidden,  when  they  recovered  the  use  of 
it,  the  sacred  cup  or  chalice  was  henceforth  carried  as  a  trophy 
in  front  of  their  armies.  With  them  it  was  a  mere  pledge  of 
their  ecclesiastical  triumph,  a  token  of  their  national  independ- 
ence. Bat  with  us,  when  we  turn  from  the  outward  thing  to 
the  thing  signified,  it  is  only  too  true  that  Catholics  and  Protest- 
ants alike  have  lost  the  cup  from  their  Communion  feasts.  If, 
as  we  have  said,  the  blood  of  Christ,  of  which  the  sacred  wine 
is  the  emblem,  in  itself  signifies  the  self-denying,  life-giving 
love  *  of  Christ,  have  not  we  often  lost  from  our  lives  and  our 
ordinances  that  which  is  the  life  of  all  Christian  life,  and  the 
wine  of  all  Christian  ordinances — namely,  the  love  or  charity 
"  without  which  whosoever  liveth  is  counted  dead  before 
God  ?"     Whosoever  regains  that  chalice,  whosoever  pours  that 

♦  George  Herbert : 

Love  is  that  liquor  sweet  and  most  divine. 
Which  my  God  feels  as  blood,  and  I  as  wine. 


110  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

new  wine  into  our  dead  hearts,  may  well  bear  it  as  a  Jrophy 
before  the  Christian  armies.  The  ground  on  which  the 
Roman  Church  withheld  the  literal  wine  from  all  but  the 
officiating  priest  was  the  scruple  lest  the  material  liquid  might 
possibly  be  spilled.  Our  ground  for  insisting  on  the  cup  for 
the  laity  ought  to  be  that  the  Divine  charity  of  which  the  cup 
of  the  Communion  is  the  emblem  belongs  to  the  whole  Church. 
To  recover  that  holy  cup,  that  real  life-blood  of  the  Redeemer, 
is  a  quest  worthy  of  all  the  chivalry  of  our  time,  worthy  of 
qll  the  courage  of  Lancelot,  worthy  of  all  the  purity  of  Gala- 
had. 

This  is  the  wine  of  that  heavenly  enthusiasm  of  which  a 
Persian  sage  sang  of  old  :  "  Bring  me  a  cup  of  wine,  not  that 
wine  which  drives  away  wisdom,  but  that  unmixed  wine  whose 
hidden  force  vanquishes  faith — that  clear  wine  which  sanctifies 
the  garb  of  the  heart — that  illuminating  wine  which  shows  to 
lovers  of  the  world  the  true  path — that  purifying  wine  which 
cleanses  the  meditative  mind  from  fanciful  thoughts."  *  This 
is  indeed  the  likeness  of  the  blood  which  spoke  better  things 
than  the  blood  of  Abel,  because  it  was  not  the  mere  material 
blood  of  an  innocent  victim,  but  it  was,  and  is,  the  aspiring 
love  and  life  which  sank  not  into  the  ground,  but  rose  again 
to  be  the  love  and  life  of  a  regenerated  world. 

And  this  leads  us  to  ask  yet  one  more  question.  What  is 
the  moral  efiect  of  this  life-blood  of  the  Christian  spirit?  The 
The  cleans-  answer  is  given  by  St.  John  (1  John  i.  7,  9)  :  "  It 
^s-  cleanseth  us  from  all  sin,"  or,  as  is  said  in  the  words 

just  following,  "  cleanseth  us  from  all  unrighteousness,^^  from  all 
injustice,  unequal  dealing,  iniquity.  This  figure  of  cleansing 
or  washing,  which  occurs  often  in  the  Bible  in  this  connection 
with  blood,  seems  to  be  taken  not  so  much  from  the  Hebrew 
worship  as  from  the  Mithraic  or  Persian  sacrifices  then  so 
common,  in  which  the  worshippers  were  literally  bathed  in  a 
stream  of  blood,  not  merely  sprinkled  or  touched,  but  plunged 
from  head  to  foot  as  in  a  baptism  of  blood.  The  figure  in 
itself  is  revolting.  But  its  very  strangeness  throws  us  far 
away  from  the  sign  to  the  reality.  It  means  that  where  any 
soul  is  imbued  with  a  love,  a  charity  like  that  of  Christ,  sur- 


*  Sacred  Anthology,  p.  167. 


THE  BODY  AND  BLOOD  OF  GBRIST.  HI 

rounded,  bathed  in  tliis  as  in  a  holy  atmosphere,  withdrawn  by 
the  contemplation  of  llis  death  and  by  the  spirit  of  his  life 
from  all  the  corrupting  influences  of  the  world  or  the  Church, 
there  the  sin,  the  hatred,  the  uncharitableness,  the  untruthful- 
ness of  men  are  purified  and  washed  away.  So  far  as  the 
blood — that  is,  the  self-sacrificing  love — of  Christ  effects  this, 
so  far  it  has  done  its  work ;  so  far  as  it  has  not  done  this,  it 
has  been  shed  in  vain.  It  is  said  that  a  young  English  soldier 
of  gay  and  dissolute  life  was  once  reading  this  chapter  of  St. 
John,  and  when  he  came  to  the  passage — "  The  blood  of  Jesus 
Christ  .  .  .  cleanseth  us  from  all  sin" — he  started  up  and 
exclaimed  :  "  Then  henceforth  I  will  live,  by  the  grace  of  God, 
as  a  man  should  live  who  has  been  washed  in  the  blood  of 
Jesus  Christ."  *  That  was  Hedley  Vicars.  And  by  this 
thought  he  lived  thenceforth  a  pure  and  spotless  life.  That 
was  indeed  to  be  "  cleansed  by  the  blood  of  Christ."  It  was 
an  example  the  more  striking,  because  probably  unconscious, 
of  the  true  meaning  of  the  cleansing  effect  of  "  the  blood  " — 
that  is,  the  unselfish  life  and  death — of  Christ.  Cleansing, 
bathing,  washing — these,  of  course,  are  figures  of  speech  when 
applied  to  the  soul.  But  they  must  mean  for  the  soul  what  is 
meant  by  cleansing  as  applied  to  the  body.  When,  for 
example,  we  pray  with  the  Psalmist,  "  Make  clean  our  hearts 
within  us,"  we  pray  that  our  motives  may  be  made  free  from 
all  those  by-ends  and  self-regards  that  spoil  even  some  of  the 
finest  natures.  When  the  prophet  said  that  our  sins  should  be 
made  "  as  white  as  wool,"  he  meant  that  so  great  is  the  power 
of  the  human  will,  and  of  the  grace  of  God,  that  the  human 
character  can  be  transformed — that  the  soul  which  once  was 
stained  deep  with  the  red  spots  of  sin  can  become  white  as 
driven  snow.  When  we  speak  of  Christ  Himself  as  the  spot- 
less immaculate  Lamb,  we  mean  that  He  was  really  without 
spot  of  sin.  When  we  speak  of  ourselves  as  washed  in  the 
blood  of  that  Lamb,  we  ought  to  mean  not  that  we  continue 
"just  as  we  were,"  with  a  cleanness  imputed  to  us  in  which 


*  The  belief  that  a  bath  of  blood  has  a  purifying  effect  appears  from  time  to 
time  in  the  stories  of  kings,  suffering  from  dreadful  maladies,  bathing  them- 
selves in  the  blood  of  children— Pharaoh  (Midrash  on  Ex.  ii.  23),  Constantine, 
Charles  IX.  of  France.  For  this  reason  baptism  was  often  said' to  be  "  in  the 
blood  of  Christ."    See  Wilberforce,  Doctrine  of  the  Eucharist,  p.  238. 


112  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

our  characters  tave  no  share,  but  that  our  uncharitableness, 
our  untruthfulness,  our  cowardice,  our  vulgarity,  our  unfair- 
ness, are,  so  far  as  human  infirmity  will  permit,  washed  out. 
When  in  one  part  of  the  English  Communion  Service  we  pray 
that  our  souls  may  be  washed  in  the  blood  of  Christ,  it  is  the 
same  prayer  as  in  substance  we  pray  in  that  other  collect  in 
another  part  of  the  same  oflSce  which  John  Wesley  declared 
to  be  *  the  summary  of  the  primitive  religion  of  love,  the  sum- 
mary of  the  religion  of  the  Church  of  England  :  "  Cleanse  the 
thoughts  of  our  hearts  by  the  inspiration  of  Thy  Holy  Spirit, 
that  we  may  perfectly  love  Thee  and  worthily  magnify  Thy 
holy  name."  When,  in  the  well-known  hymns  which  are  often 
sung  in  excited  congregations,  we  speak  of  "  the  fountain 
tilled  with  blood  drawn  from  Emmanuel's  veins,  where  sinners 
plunged  beneath  that  flood  lose  all  their  guilty  stains,"  these 
passages,  unless  they  are  only  figures  without  substance,  must 
be  the  prayer  which  goes  up  from  every  soul  which  feels  the 
desire  to  be  cleansed  from  all  those  defilements  of  passion 
or  falsehood  or  self-conceit  or  hatred  which  will  doubtless 
cling  to  us  more  or  less  to  the  end  of  our  mortal  life,  but  dis- 
appear in  pi'oportion  as  we  are  bathed  in  the  Spirit  of  eternal 
love  and  purity.  It  is  the  same  prayer  as  that  which  is  ex- 
pressed in  more  refined  and  chastened  language  by  our  own 
living  Laureate  in  his  poem  on  St.  Agnes  : 

Make  thou  my  spirit  pure  and  clear 
As  are  the  frosty  skies; 

or  in  the  yet  sublimer  invocation  of  Milton  to  Him  who  pre- 
fers 

Before  all  temples  the  upright  heart  and  pure. 

But  perhaps  we  ought  still  to  ask — How  is  it  that  the  love  of 
Christ,  which  is  the  love  of  man  and  the  love  of  God,  and 
which  is  the  life-blood  of  the  Christian  religion — how  is  it 
that  this  love  cleanses  and  purifies  the  character  ?  Why  is  it, 
more  than  justice  or  truth  or  courage,  described  as  the  regen- 
erating element  of  the  human  heart?  To  do  this  at  length 
would  be  beyond  our  limits.  In  a  philosophic  sense  it  is  well 
drawn  out  in  Butler's  Sermon  on  the  Love  of  God.     With  all 

*  Wesley's  Sermons,  vol.  iii.  p.  434. 


THE  BODY  AND  BLOOD  OF  CHRIST.  113 

the  energy  of  an  impassioned  and  devout  soul  it  is  drawn  out 
in  the  sermons  and  letters  of  Charles  Kingsley,  But  still,  in 
order  to  show  that  we  are  not  merely  dealing  in  generalities, 
take  some  of  the  special  forms  in  which  true  affection  has  this 
effect  in  human  life.  Take  gratitude.  We  have  known  some 
one  who  has  done  us  a  lasting  service.  We  wish  to  repay  the 
kindness.  In  ninety-nine  cases  out  of  a  hundred  we  cannot 
repay  it  better  than  by  showing  that  we  are  worthy  of  it. 
We  have,  by  the  exertions  of  such  a  good  friend,  been  placed 
in  a  good  situation  or  set  in  a  good  way  of  life.  We  keep  in 
mind  the  effect  which  our  good  or  evil  conduct  will  have  on 
them.  It  will  wound  them  to  the  quick  if  we  deceive  or  dis- 
appoint their  expectations.  It  will  be  as  sunshine  to  their  life 
if  we  do  credit  to  their  recommendation.  The  boy  at  school, 
the  public  officer  ministering  for  the  public  good,  the  private 
clerk  in  some  responsible  situation,  the  servant  in  a  household 
great  or  small,  may  have  always  before  them  the  image  of 
their  •benefactor.  The  love,  the  gratitude,  which  they  bear,  or 
ought  to  bear,  towards  him,  will  cleanse  and  purify  their 
hearts.  If  he  or  she  is  still  living,  we  may  think  what  it 
would  be  to  meet  them  with  an  open  or  a  shame-stricken' 
countenance.  The  love  which  they  have  shown  to  us,  and  the 
gratitude  we  feel,  will  drive  out  the  evil  spirit. 

Or,  again,  gratitude  for  some  great  benefit,  say  a  recovery 
from  illness.  It  may  have  been  a  recovery  for  Avhich  many 
have  anxiously  watched — a  recovery  which  has,  as  it  were, 
given  us  a  new  lease  of  life.  He  who  responds  to  that  experi- 
ence will  have  his  heart  softened,  opened,  cleansed.  That 
heart  wliich  refuses  to  be  softened,  opened,  and  cleansed, 
after  such  an  experience,  must  be  as  hard  as  the  nether  mill- 
stone. Such  a  one,  wherever  he  may  be,  if  indeed  he  has  so 
little  of  the  grateful  sense  of  good  received,  has  trodden  under 
foot  the  love  of  "  the  everlasting  covenant "  which  nature  as 
well  as  grace  has  made  between  man  and  man,  between  man 
and  God. 

Or,  again,  the  love,  the  pure  affections,  of  home.  We 
sometimes  hear  it  said  that  during  the  last  few  years  the 
bonds  of  English  society  are  relaxed,  the  fountains  of  English 
morality  poisoned — that  things  are  talked  of,  and  tolerated, 
and  practised,   which   in    the  former  generation  would  have 


114  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

been  despised,  condemned,  and  put  down.  Against  these 
defiling,  destroying,  devastating  influences,  what  is  the  safe- 
guard? It  is  surely  the  maintenance,  the  encouragement,  of 
that  pure  domestic  love  of  which  we  just  now  spoke.  Dr. 
Chalmers  used  to  preach  of  the  expulsive  force  of  a  new  affec- 
tion. But  it  is  enough  for  our  purpose  to  have  the  expulsive 
force  of  an  old  affection — of  that  old,  very  old  affection 
which  lies  in  the  vitals  of  human  society,  which  is  truly  its 
life-blood — the  affection  of  son  for  father  and  mother,  of  hus- 
band for  wife  and  of  wife  for  husband,  of  brother  for  sister 
and  of  sister  for  brother.  Such  an  element  of  affection  is  the 
salt  of  the  national  existence,  is  the  continuation  of  the  re- 
membrance of  that  sacred  blood  of  which  we  are  told  "  to 
drink  and  be  thanlcful."  He  who  turns  his  back  on  these 
liome  affections  has  left  himself  open  to  become  the  prey, 
whether  in  the  upper  or  the  lower  classes,  of  the  basest  and 
vilest  of  men,  of  the  basest  and  vilest  of  women. 

Or,  again,  the  love  of  our  country,  or,  if  we  prefer  so  to  put 
it,  the  love  of  the  public  good.  It  is  no  fancy  to  call  these 
feelings  by  so  strong  a  name.  They  who  have  felt  it  know 
that  it  is  a  passion  which  cheers  us  amidst  the  greatest  diffi- 
culties, which  consoles  us  even  in  the  deepest  private  calami- 
ties. And  it  is  a  passion  in  the  presence  of  which  the  meaner 
trivialities  of  existence  wither  and  perish.  It  is  a  passion  in 
the  absence  of  which  there  grows  up  falsehood,  and  intrigue, 
and  vulgar  insolence,  and  selfish  ambition,  and  rancorous  faction. 
It  was  a  passion  which  animated  our  great  statesmen  of  times 
gone  by — Chatham,  Pitt,  Fox,  Canning,  Wellington,  and  Peel. 
It  was  a  passion  which  once  cleansed  our  Augean  stable,  which 
flowed  like  a  generous  wine  through  the  veins  of  the  Common- 
wealth and  to  the  extremeties  of  society.  Whether  it  is  now 
more  or  less  potent  than  it  was  then,  whether  the  public  ser- 
vice of  the  state  is  sought  after,  or  the  great  questions  of  the 
day  taken  up,  more  or  less  tlian  formerly,  from  the  large  and 
sincere  conviction  of  their  truth  and  their  goodness,  or  only, 
or  chiefly,  for  temporary  or  personal  purposes,  let  those  an- 
swer who  best  know.  Only,  whenever  this  lofty  passion  shall 
cease  in  the  high  places  of  our  land,  that  the  end  is  not  far 
off ;  then  the  blood  of  patriots  will  have  been  wasted,  the 
blood  of  heroes  and  of  martyrs  will  have  been  shed  in  vain; 


THE  BODY  AND  BLOOD  OF  CHRIST.  115 

and  with  the  decay  of  public  spirit  and  of  tlie  affection  of  our 
best  citizens  for  our  common  country,  the  moral  health  and 
strength  of  State  and  of  Church,  of  statesmen  and  of  private 
men,  will  dwindle,  pale,  and  pine  as  surely  as  a  sickly  frame 
through  which  the  life-blood  has  ceased  to  peraieate. 

These  are  some  of  the  examples  of  the  way  in  which  single 
disinterested  affection  for  what  is  good  makes  all  duties  easy 
and  all  vices  difficult,  and  so  fulfils  the  law  of  God.  For  the 
purification  thus  effected  by  the  love  of  friends,  home,  and 
country  is  the  likeness  of  what  may  be  effected  by  that  love 
through  which  the  Supreme  Goodness  comes  down  to  earth, 
and  through  which  our  imperfect  goodness  ascends  to  heaven. 

In  this  brief  summary  of  the  Biblical  meaning  of  the  words 
"  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ,"  it  has  been  intended  not  so 
much  to  run  counter  to  any  metaphysical  theories  on  the 
Eucharist,  as  to  indicate  that  the  only  important  significance 
to  be  attached  to  the  Biblical  words  belongs  to  a  region 
which  those  theories  hardly  touch,  and  which,  therefore,  may 
be  treated  beyond  and  apart  from  most  of  the  controversies 
on  the  subject.  In  some  phrases  of  the  Roman  Missal,  and 
perhaps  stUl  more  in  parts  of  the  Roman  practice,  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  avoid  the  impression  that  a  magical  process  is  implied 
of  material  particles  touching  the  mind  as  though  it  were 
matter.  This  accordingly  became  synonymous  Avith  the 
most  \Tilgar  fonn  of  sleight  of  hand.  The  sacred  phrase  of 
"  Hoc  est  corpus "  by  a  natural  descent  was  corrupted  into 
"  hocus  pocus."  The  obligation  of  fasting  before  the  Com- 
munion has  been  confirmed,  if  not  originated,  by  the  notion 
that  the  matter  of  the  sacramental  substance  might  meet 
the  matter  of  ordinary  food  in  the  process  of  physical 
digestion.  In  the  Communion  Offices  of  the  Reformed 
Churches,  including  the  English,  traces  of  these  material 
traditions  linger,  and  the  higher  purpose  of  moral  improvement 
originally  implied  in  the  words  has  perhaps  been  also  thrown 
into  the  background  by  the  prominence  of  the  historical  and 
commemorative  element.  Still,  even  in  the  Roman  Office,  and 
much  more  in  the  Protestant  Offices,  the  moral  element  is 
found,  and  probably,  to  the  more  enlightened  members  of  all 
Churches,  the  idea  is  never  altogether  absent,  that  the  main 


116  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

object  of  the  Eucliarist  is  the  moral  improvement  of  the  com- 
municants. Nevertheless,  it  is  necessary  to  bring  out  as 
strongly  as  possible  this  moral  element  as  the  primary,  it  is 
hardly  too  much  to  say  the  sole  meaning  of  the  words  on 
which  the  institution  of  the  Eucharist  is  founded.  It  may  be 
that  the  moral  intention  of  these  sacred  phrases  and  acts  is, 
unconsciously,  if  not  consciously,  so  deeply  embedded  in  their 
structure  as  to  render  any  such  exposition  unnecessary.  It 
may  be  that  the  signs,  the  shadows,  the  figures  have  been  or 
shall  be  so  raised  above  what  is  local,  material,  and  temporary 
that  they  shall  be  almost  inseparable  from  the  moral  improve- 
ment which  alone  is  the  true  food,*  the  true  health  of  the  soul. 
But  possibly  the  materialism  of  the  ecclesiastical  sacristy, 
keeping  pace  with  the  materialism  of  the  philosophic  school, 
may  so  undermine  the  spiritual  element  of  this — almost  the 
only  external  ordinance  of  Christianity — as  to  endanger  the 
ordinance  itself.  Possibly  the  carnal  and  material  may  so 
absorb  and  obliterate  the  spiritual,  that  it  will  be  necessary  in 
the  name  of  Religion  to  expect  some  change  in  the  outward 
forms  of  the  sacrament,  not  less  incisive  than  those  which  in 
former  ages  by  the  general  instinct  of  Christendom  swept 
away  those  parts  which  have  now  perished  forever.  Infant 
Communion,  once  universal  throughout  the  whole  Church,  and 
still  retained  in  the  East,  has  been  forbidden  throughout  the 
whole  Western  Church,  Catholic  and  Protestant  alike.  Daily 
Communion,  universal  in  the  primitive  Church,  has  for  tho 
vast  majority  of  Christians  been  discontinued  both  in  the  East 
and  West.  Evening  Communion,  the  original  time  of  the 
ordinance,  has  been  forbidden  by  the  Roman  Church.  Soli- 
tary Communion  has  been  forbidden  in  the  English  Church. 
Death-bed  Communion  has  been  forbidden  in  the  Scottish 
Church.  It  is  difficult  to  imagine  changes,  short  of  total  abo- 
lition, more  sweeping  than  these.  But  yet  they  were  induced 
by  the  repugnance  of  the  higher  instinct  of  Christendom  to 
see  its  most  sacred  ceremony  degraded  into  a  charm.  It  is 
possible  that  the  metaphors  of  the  Bible  on  this  subject  shall 
be  felt  to  have  been  so  misused  and  distorted  that  they  also 


*  There  is  a  striking  passage  in  FSnelon  to  the  effect  that  the  true  food  of  the 
soul  is  moral  goodness.    Meditations  on  the  Sixteenth  Day. 


THE  BODY  AND  BLOOD  OF  CUBIST.  II7 

shall  pass  into  the  same  abeyance  as  has  already  overtaken 
some  expressions  which  formerly  were  no  less  dear  to  pious 
hearts  than  these.  The  use  of  the  language  of  the  Canticles, 
such  as  was  familiar  to  St.  Bernard  and  Samuel  Rutherford, 
has  become  impossible,  and  many  terms  used  in  St.  Paul's 
Epistles  to  the  Romans  and  Galatians  on  Predestination  and 
Justification  are  now  but  very  rarely  heard  in  ordinary  pulpits. 
But,  whatever  betide,  it  is  alike  the  duty  and  the  hope, 
whether  of  those  who  fondly  cling  to  these  forms  or  words, 
or  of  those  who  think,  perhaps  too  boldly,  that  they  can  dis- 
pense with  them,  to  keep  steadily  in  view  the  moral  realities, 
for  the  sake  of  which  alone  (if  Christianity  be  the  universal 
religion)  such  forms  exist,  and  which  will  survive  the  dis- 
appearance even  of  the  most  venerable  ordinances,  even  of  the 
most  sacred  phrases. 


118  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

ABSOLUTION. 

It  is  well  known  that  in  certain  parts  of  Christendom,  and 
in  certain  sections  of  the  English  Church,  considerable  impor- 
tance is  attached  to  the  words  which  appear  in  the  Gospels  of 
St.  Matthew  and  St.  John,  as  justifying  the  paramount  duty 
of  all  Christians  to  confess  their  sins  to  presbyters,  who  have 
received  episcopal  ordination,  and  the  exclusive  right  of 
presbyters,  so  appointed,  to  absolve  them. 

It  is  not  here  intended  to  enter  on  the  various  objections 
raised  on  moral  grounds  to  this  theory.  But  it  may  be  use- 
ful to  show  the  original  meaning  of  the  words,  and  then  trace 
their  subsequent  history.  It  will  be  then  seen  that,  whatever 
other  grounds  there  may  be  for  the  doctrine  or  practice  in 
question,  these  passages  have  either  no  relation  to  it,  or  that 
whatever  relation  they  have  is  the  exact  contradiction  of  the 
theory  in  question. 

The  texts  are  (in  English)  as  follows : 

The  address  to  Peter  (Matt.  xvi.  19):  "  Whatsoever  thou 
shalt  bind  on  earth  shall  be  bound  in  heaven :  and  whatsoever 
thou  shalt  loose  on  earth  shall  be  loosed  in  heaven."  ^ 

The  address  to  the  disciples  (Matt,  xviii.  18) :  "Whatsoever 
ye  shall  bind  on  earth  shall  be  bound  in  heaven :  and  what- 
soever ye  shall  loose  on  earth  shall  be  loosed  in  heaven." 

The  address  to  the  disciples  (John  xx.  23) :  "Whosesoever 
sins  ye  remit,  they  are  remitted  unto  them :  and  whosesoever 
sins  ye  retain  they  are  retained." 

We  will  first  take  the  two  passages  in  the  Gospel  of  St. 
Matthew.  For  the  purposes  of  this  argument  the  words 
addressed  to  St.  Peter  need  not  be  distinguished  from  the 
words  addressed  to  the  disciples,  as  they  are  in  each  case 
identically  the  same.* 

*  For  their  peculiar  meaning  as  addressed  to  St.  Peter,  it  may  be  permitted 
to  refer  to  a  volume  published  many  years  ago,  entitled  Sermons  and  Essays 
on  the  Apostolic  Age,  pp.  12~-M. 


ABSOLUTION.  119 

I.  The  phrase  "binding"  and  "  loosing"  meant,  in  the  lan- 
guage of  the  Jewish  schools,  declaring  what  is  right  and  what  is 
wrong.  If  any  Master,  or  Rabbi,  or  Judge,  declared  Binding  and 
a  thing  to  be  right  or  true,  he  was  said  to  have  loosing, 
loosed  it ;  if  he  declared  a  thing  to  be  wrong  or  false,  he 
was  said  to  have  bound  it.  That  this  is  the  original  meaning 
of  the  words  has  been  set  at  rest  beyond  possibility  of  ques- 
tion since  the  decisive  quotations  given  by  the  most  learned 
Hebrew  scholars  of  the  seventeenth  century.*  The  meaning, 
therefore,  of  the  expressions,  as  addressed  to  the  first  disciples, 
was  that,  humble  as  they  seemed  to  be,  yet,  by  virtue  of  the 
new  spiritual  life  and  new  spiritual  insight  which  Christ 
brought  into  the  world,  their  decisions  in  cases  of  right  and 
wrong  would  be  invested  with  all  and  more  than  all  the 
authority  which  had  belonged  before  to  the  Masters  of  the 
Jewish  Assemblies,  to  the  Rulers  and  Teachers  of  the  Syna- 
gogues. It  was  the  same  promise  as  was  expressed  in  sub- 
stance in  those  other  well  known  passages :  "  It  is  not  ye  that 
speak,  but  the  Spirit  of  My  Father  which  speaketh  in  you." 
"  He  that  is  spiritual  judgeth  all  things."  "  Ye  have  an 
unction  from  the  Holy  One,  and  ye  know  all  things,  and  need 
not  that  any  one  should  teach  you."  "  The  Comforter  shall 
lead  you  into  all  truth." 

The  sense  thus  given  is  as  adequate  to  the  occasion  as  it  is 
certainly  true.  In  the  new  crisis  through  which  the  world 
was  to  pass,  they — the  despised  scholars  of  a  despised  Master 
— were  to  declare  what  was  changeable  and  what  was 
unchangeable,  what  was  eternal,  what  was  transitory,  what 
was  worthy  of  approval,  and  what  was  worthy  of  condem- 
nation. They  were  to  declare  the  innocence  of  a  thousand 
customs  of  the  Gentile  world,  which  their  Jewish  countrymen 
had  believed  to  be  sinful ;  they  were  to  declare  the  exceeding 
sinfulness  of  a  thousand  acts  which  both  Jews  and  Pagans  had 
believed  to  be  virtuous  or  indifferent.  They  were  empowered 
to  announce  with  unswerving  confidence  the  paramount 
importance  of  charity,  and  the  supreme  preciousness  of 
truth,    They  were  empowered  to  denounce  with  unsparing  con- 


*  "  Hebrew  and  Talmudical  Exercitations  upon  the  Evangelist  St.  Matthew 
(xvi.  19).    By  Jolm  Lightfoot,  D.D."     \Vurks,  vol.  ii.  pp.  306-7. 


120  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

demnation  the  meanness  of  selfishness,  tlie  sacrilege  of 
impurity,  the  misery  of  self-deceit,  the  impiety  of  unchari- 
tableness.  And  what  the  first  generation  of  Christians,  to 
whom  these  words  were  addressed,  thus  decided,  has  on  the 
whole  been  ratified  in  heaven — has  on  the  whole  been  ratified 
by  the  voice  of  Providence  in  the  subsequent  history  of  man- 
kind. By  this  discernment  of  good  and  evil  the  Apostolic 
writers  became  the  lawgivers  of  the  civilized  world.  Eigh- 
teen hundred  years  have  passed,  and  their  judgments  in  all 
essential  points  have  never  been  reversed. 

The  authority  or  the  accuracy  of  portions  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment on  this  or  that  point  is  often  disputed.  The  grammar, 
the  arguments,  the  history  of  the  authors  of  the  Gospels  and 
Epistles  can  often  be  questioned.  But  that  which  must  govern 
us  all — their  declaration  of  the  moral  standard  of  mankind, 
the  ideal  they  have  placed  before  us  of  that  which  is  to  guide 
our  conduct — which  is,  after  all,  as  has  been  said  by  Matthew 
Arnold,  three-fourths  of  human  life — has  hardly  been  ques- 
tioned at  all  by  the  intelligent  and  upright  part  of  mankind. 
The  condemnation  of  sins,  the  commendation  of  graces,  in  St. 
Matthew's  description  of  the  Beatitudes,  in  St.  Luke's  descrip- 
tion of  the  Prodigal  Son,  in  St.  John's  description  of  the  con- 
versation with  the  woman  of  Samaria,  in  St,  Peter's  declaration 
that  in  every  land  "  he  that  w'orketh  righteousness  (of  what- 
ever' creed  or  race)  is  accepted  of  God,"  in  St.  Paul's  descrip- 
tion of  charity,  in  St.  James's  description  of  pure  religion — 
have  commanded  the  entire  assent  of  the  world,  of  Boling- 
broke  and  Voltaire  no  less  than  of  Thomas  a  Kempis  and 
Wesley,  because  these  moral  judgments  bear  on  their  face  that 
stamp  of  the  divine,  the  superhuman,  the  truly  supernatural, 
which  critical  inquiry  cannot  touch,  which  human  wisdom  and 
human  folly  alike,  whilst  they  may  be  unwilling  or  unable  to 
fulfil  the  precepts,  yet  cannot  deny.  This  is  the  original  mean- 
ing in  which  the  judgments  of  the  first  Christians  in  regard  to 
sin  and  virtue  were  ratified  in  heaven.  It  is  necessary  to  insist 
on  this  point  in  order  to  show  that  an  amply  sufficient  force 
and  solemnity  is  inherent  in  the  proper  meaning  of  the  words, 
without  resorting  to  fictitious  modes  of  aggrandizing  them  in 
directions  for  which  they  were  not  intended. 

The  signification  of  tlie  phrase  in  John  xx.  23,  translated  in 


ABSOLUTION.  121 

the  Authorized  Version  "  remitting  and  retaining  sins,"  is  not 
equally  clear.  The  words  used  [aq)ievai,  i'qjeGi^)  „ 
do  not  of  necessity  mean  the  declaration  of  the  in-  and  retain- 
nocence  or  lawfulness  of  any  particular  act;  still  "^s^i^s. 
less  does  the  corresponding  phrase  (^Hpareiv)  necessarily  mean 
the  declaration  of  its  unlawfulness.  It  may  be  that  the  words 
rendered  "  remit  sin  "  are  (as  in  Mark  i.  4 ;  Luke  iii.  3)  equiva- 
lent to  the  abolition  or  dismissal  of  sin,  and  it  would  be  the 
natural  meaning  of  the  word  rendered  "  retain  sin "  that  it 
should  signify,  as  in  all  the  other  passages  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment where  it  occurs,  "  to  control,"  "  conquer,"  "  subdue  sin." 
In  that  case  the  words  would  describe,  not  the  intellectual  or 
didactic  side  of  the  Apostolic  age,  but  its  moral  and  practical 
side,  and  would  correspond  to  numerous  other  passages,  such 
as,  "  Ask  and  it  shall  be  given  unto  you ;"  "  If  ye  will  say  unto 
this  mountain,  Be  thou  removed  and  be  thou  cast  into  the  sea, 
it  shall  be  done  ;"  ''  He  that  Immbleth  himself  shall  be  exalted;" 
"  Inasmuch  as  ye  have  done  it  unto  the  least  of  these  My 
brethren,  ye  have  done  it  unto  Me  ;"  "  Greater  works  than  these 
shall  ye  do  ;"  "  Be  of  good  cheer,  I  have  overcome  the  world  ;" 
"Sanctify  them  through  Thy  truth;"  "My  grace  is  sufficient 
for  thee ;"  "  I  can  do  all  things  through  Christ  that  strengthen- 
eth  me  ;"  "  He  that  overcometh  and  keepeth  My  words  unto 
the  end,  to  him  will  I  give  power  over  the  nations."  If  this 
assurance  of  the  moral  victory  of  the  Apostolic  age  over  sin  be 
the  meaning  of  the  2:)hrases,  then  here  also  it  may  be  affirmed, 
without  fear  of  contradiction,  that,  on  the  whole,  and  with  the 
necessary  reserves  of  human  imperfection,  the  moral  superior- 
ity of  the  first  age  of  Christendom  to  those  which  preceded 
and  those  which  f  llowed  was  very  remarkable,  and  that  such  a 
fulfilment  well  corresponded  to  the  significant  act  of  the  breath- 
ing of  the  spirit  of  goodness  or  holiness  upon  those  to  whom 
the  words  were  addressed.  But  on  this  interpretation  we  need 
not  insist.  It  is  necessary  to  point  it  out  in  order  to  show  that 
the  passage  is  not  clear  from  ambiguity.  But  it  is  enough  if, 
as  is  commonly  supposed,  the  words,  by  some  peculiar  turn  of 
the  Fourth  Grospel,  are  identical  in  meaning  with  those  in  St. 
Matthew.  In  that  case  all  that  we  have  said  of  the  address  to 
Peter  and  the  address  to  the  disciples  in  the  First  Gospel 
applies  equally  to  this  address  in  the  Fourth. 
6 


122  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

II.  Siicli,  tlien,  was  the  promise  as  spoken  in  the  first  instance. 
In  the  Uteral  sense  of  the  words  this  fulfilment  of  them  can 
hardly  occur  again. 

No  other  book  of  equal  authority  with  the  New  Testament 
has  ever  issued  from  mortal  pen.  No  epoch  has  spoken  on 
Universal  moral  questions  with  a  voice  so  powerful  as  the 
application.  Apostolic  age.  Shakespeare,  Milton,  Bacon,  and 
llegcl  may  be  of  a  wider  range.  Yet  they  do  not  rise  to  the 
moral  dignity  of  the  best  parts  of  the  New  Testament.  "When 
Ave  leave  the  purely  personal  and  historical  application  of  these 
words,  then,  as  in  all  our  Lord's  words  and  precepts,  the  whole 
point  of  the  words  is,  that  they  are  spoken,  not  to  any  one 
person  or  order  of  men,  or  succession  of  men,  but  to  the  whole 
Christian  community  of  all  time — to  any  in  that  community 
that  partake  of  the  same  spirit,  and  in  proportion  as  they  par- 
take of  the  same  moral  qualities  as  filled  the  first  hearers  of  the 
gospel.  When  it  is  sometimes  alleged  that  the  promise  to 
Peter  was  exclusively  fulfilled  in  the  Bishops  of  Rome,  who, 
centuries  afterwards,  were  supposed  to  have  been  his  successors, 
it  would  be  just  as  reasonable,  or  we  may  say  just  as  unreason- 
able, as  to  say  that  all  the  Bishops  of  Ephesus  were  specially 
loved  by  Jesus  because  they  were  supposed  to  have  succeeded 
St.  John  at  Ephesus.  What  the  most  learned  and  the  most 
gifted  of  all  the  Fathers,  Origen,*  said  of  the  promise  to  St. 
Peter  in  the  sixteenth  chapter  of  St.  ]\Iatthew  is  at  once  the 
best  proof  of  what  was  believed  about  it  m  early  times,  and  also 
the  best  explanation  of  its  application  •  to  later  days :  "  He 
who  is  gifted  with  self-control  enters  the  gate  of  heaven  by 
the  key  of  self-control.  He  who  is  just  enters  the  gate  of 
heaven  by  the  key  of  justice.  The  Saviour  gives  to  those  who 
are  not  overcome  by  the  gates  of  hell  as  many  keys  as  there 
are  virtues.  Against  him  that  judges  unjustly,  and  does  not 
bind  on  earth  according  to  God's  word,  the  gates  of  hell  pre- 
vail ;  but  against  whom  the  gates  of  hell  do  not  prevail,  he 
judges  justly.  If  any  who  is  not  Peter,  and  has  not  the  quali- 
ties here  mentioned,  believes  that  he  can  bind  on  earth  like 


*  Origen  on  Matt.  xvi.  19.  Comp.  ibid.  De  Or  at.  c.  28.  An  instructive  col- 
lection of  similar  expressions  from  St.  Augustine  is  given  in  an  interesting 
dissertation  on  the  ancient  Making  of  Bishops,  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Harrison,  vicar 
of  Fenwick. 


ABSOLUTION.  123 

Peter,  so  tbat  what  he  binds  is  bound  in  heaven,  such  an  one 
is  puflPed  up,  not  knowing  the  meaning  of  the  Scriptures." 

That  which  is  clear  in  the  case  of  the  promise  to  Peter  is 
still  more  clear  in  the  case  of  the  promise  in  Matt,  xviii.  18, 
and  John  xx.  23.  It  is  obvious  from  the  text  in  John  xx.  23, 
that  there  is  no  special  limitation  to  the  Twelve.  For  at  the 
meeting  spoken  of  some  of  the  Twelve  were  not  there; 
Thomas  was  absent,  Matthias  was  not  yet  elected,  Paul  and 
Barnabas  were  not  yet  called.  And  also  others  were  there 
besides  the  Eleven,  for  in  the  corresponding  passage  in  Luke 
xxiv.  36-47,  it  would  appear  (if  we  take  the  narratives  in  their 
literal  meaning)  that  the  two  disciples  from  Emmaus,  who 
were  not  apostles,  were  present,  and  the  evangelist  here,  as 
throughout  his  whole  Gospel,  nc\'er  uses  any  other  word  than 
"disciples."  What  is  thus  clear  from  the  actual  passage  in 
John  XX.  23,  is  yet  more  clear  from  the  context  of  Matt,  xviii. 
18.  There,  in  the  verses  immediately  preceding,  phrase  is 
heaped  on  phrase,  and  argument  on  argument,  to  show  that 
the  power  of  binding  and  loosing  was  addressed,  not  to  any 
particular  class  within  the  circle  of  disciples,  but  to  the  whole 
body  in  its  widest  sense.  Our  Lord  is  there  speaking  of  the 
forgiveness  of  offences.  He  requires  the  contending  parties, 
if  they  cannot  agree,  to  hear  the  Church — that  is,  the  whole 
congregation  or  assembly ;  to  appeal,  as  it  were,  to  the  popu- 
lar instinct  of  the  whole  community ;  and  He  goes  on  to  say 
that,  if  even  two  agree  on  a  matter  of  this  kind,  wherever  two 
or  three  are  gathered  together  in  His  name,  there  is  He  in  the 
midst  of  them.  These  passages,  in  fact,  form  no  exception  to 
the  universal  rule  of  our  Lord's  discourses.  Here,  as  elsewhere, 
as  He  said  Himself,  "What  I  say  unto  you,  I  say  unto  all." 
"Peter,"  as  St.  Augustine  says,  "represents  all  good  men,  and 
the  promise  in  St.  John  is  addressed  to  all  believers  every- 
where." "  These  words,"  says  a  living  divine,  "  like  the  eyes 
of  the  Lord,  look  every  way,  and  may  include  all  forgiveness, 
whenever  or  wheresoever  any  sins  are  remitted  through  the 
agency  of  men."*  They  belong  to  the  same  class  of  precepts 
as  "  Let  your  loins  be  girded  and  your  lights  burning,"  "  Ye 
are  the  salt  of  the  earth,"  "Ye  are  the  light  of  the  world." 

*  Pusey  071  Absolution,  p.  33. 


124  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

AH  have  a  share  in  their  meaning,  all  have  a  share  in  their 
force,  in  proportion  as  we  have  received  from  Heaven  any  por- 
tion of  that  inspiration  whereby  we  seek  "  to  do  and  to  tbink 
the  things  tbat  be  good."  * 

It  was  only  when  the  minds  of  men  had  become  confused 
by  the  introduction  of  limitations  and  alterations  which  had  no 
connection  with  the  original  words  that  these  promises  and 
precepts  began  to  change  their  meaning.  The  "  Church," 
which  once  had  meant  the  people,  or  the  laity,  came  to  mean 
the  clergy.  The  declaration,  "Ye  are  the  light  of  the  world," 
was  understood  to  mean  only  those  who  were  in  holy  orders. 
The  promise  to  Peter  came  to  be  strangely  confined  to  the 
Italian  Prelates  who  lived  on  the  banks  of  the  Tiber.  The 
words  of  St.  John's  Gospel,  which  had  originally  been  intended 
to  teach  the  mutual  edification  and  independent  insight  into 
divine  truth  of  all  who  were  inspired  by  the  Spirit  of  Christ, 
became  limited  to  the  second  of  the  three  orders  of  the  Chris- 
tian ministry.  But  these  are  merely  passing  restrictions  and 
mistakes.  The  general  truth  of  the  words  themselves  remains 
unshaken  and  still  applicable  to  the  general  growth  of  Chris- 
tian truth. 

The  practical  lesson  of  the  passages  is  that  which  has  been 
already  indicated — namely,  that  the  enlightening,  elevating 
power  of  the  Christiafi  conscience  is  not  confined  to  any  pro- 
fession or  order,  however  sacred  ;  is  exercised  not  in  virtue  of 
any  hereditary  or  transmitted  succession,  but  in  virtue  of  the 
spiritual  discernment,  the  insight  into  truth  and  character, 
which  has  been  vouchsafed  to  all  good  men,  to  all  Christians, 
in  proportion  to  their  goodness,  and  wisdom,  and  discernment. 
This,  as  Origen  says,  is  the  true  power  of  the  keys;  a  power 
which  may  be  exercised,  and  which  is  exercised,  sometimes  by 
the  teaching  of  a  faithful  pastor,  sometimes  by  the  presence  of 
an  innocent  child,  sometimes  by  the  example  of  a  good  mother, 
sometimes  by  the  warning  of  a  true  friend,  sometimes  by  the 
silent  glance  of  just  indignation,  sometimes  by  the  reading  of 
a  good  book — above  all,  by  the  straightforward  honesty  of  our 


*  Even  those  early  Christian  writers  who  restrict  these  words  to  a  particular 
act,  restrict  them  to  baptism;  and  baptism,  according  to  the  rules  of  the  an- 
cient Church,  can  be  performed  by  any  one. 


ABSOLUTION.  126 

own  individual  consciences,  whether  in  dealing  with  ourselves 
or  others. 

It  may  be  worth  while  here  again  to  recall  the  obvious  pro- 
cesses by  which  the  amelioration  of  mankind  has  taken  place. 
We  see  it  clearly  on  the  large  scale  of  history.  Eflfectofthe 
Doubtless  there  have  been  long  periods  when  the  ^^^^v- 
chief  enlightenment  of  the  world  has  come  from  the  clergy. 
In  most  Protestant  and  in  some  Catholic  and  Greek  Churches 
the  clergy,  as  a  class,  perhaps  still  do  more  than  any  other 
single  class  of  men  to  keep  alive  a  sense  of  goodness  and 
truth.  But  there  has  never  been  a  time  when  the  laity  have 
not  had  their  share  in  the  guidance  of  the  Church;  and  in 
proportion  as  Christian  civilization  has  increased,  in  proportion 
as  the  clergy  have  done  their  duty  in  enlightening  and  teach- 
ing others,  in  that  proportion  the  Christian  influence,  the 
binding  and  the  loosing  power  of  all  good  and  gifted  men,  has 
increased — in  that  proportion  has  the  principle  implied  in 
these  passages  received  a  deeper,  wider  signification. 

There  have  been  ages  when  the  clergy  were  coextensive  with 
the  educated  class  of  mankind,  and  were  thus  the  chief  means 
of  stimulating  and  purifying  the  moral  standard  of  their  age. 
But  at  all  times,  and  specially  since  other  professions  have 
become  "  clerks," — that  is,  scholars  and  instructors, — the  ad- 
vancement of  learning,  the  opening  of  the  gates  of  heaven, 
has  been  as  much  the  work  of  the  Christian  Church — that  is, 
of  the  laity — as  of  the  priesthood.  By  the  highest  rank  of 
the  whole  profession  of  the  clergy — the  Pontificate  of  Rome 
— the  key  of  knowledge  has  been  perhaps  wielded  less  than  by 
any  other  great  institution  in  Christendom.  Of  the  256  prel- 
ates who  have  filled  the  bishopric  of  Rome,  scarcely  more  than 
four  have  done  anything  by  their  writings  to  enlarge  the  boun- 
daries of  knowledge  and  to  raise  the  moral  perceptions  of  man- 
kind— Leo  the  Great,  Gregory  the  Great,  and  (in  a  higher 
degree)  Benedict  XIV.  and  Clement  XIV.  Occasional  acts 
of  toleration  towards  the  Jews,  the  rectification  of  the  calendar, 
and  a  few  like  examples  of  enlightenment  may  be  adduced. 
But,  as  a  general  rule,  whatever  else  the  Popes  have  done,  they 
have  not,  in  the  Biblical  sense,  bound  or  loosed  the  moral  du- 
ties of  mankind. 

And,  again,  as  to  the  clergy  generally,  the  abolition  of  slav- 


126  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

ery,  though  supported  by  many  excellent  ecclesiastics,  yet  had 
for  its  chief  promoters  the  laymen  Wilberforce  and  Clarkson. 
What  these  virtuous  and  gifted  men  bound  on  earth  was  bound 
in  heaven,  what  they  loosed  on  earth  was  loosed  in  heaven,  not 
because  they  had  or  had  not  been  set  apart  for  a  special  office, 
but  because  they  had  received  a  large  measure  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  of  God,  which  enabled  them  to  see  tjie  good  and  refuse 
the  evil  of  the  times  in  which  they  lived. 

If  the  aspirations  of  one  half  of  raediseval  Christendom 
after  goodness  were  guided  by  the  clerical  work  of  Thomas  a 
Kempis,  another  half  must  have  been  no  less  elevated  by  the 
lay  work  of  the  divine  poem  of  Dante.  If  the  revelation  of 
God  in  the  universe  was  partly  discovered  by  Copernicus  the 
ecclesiastic,  it  was  more  fully  disclosed  by  the  labors  of  Galileo 
the  layman,  which  the  clergy  condemned.  If  the  religion  of 
England  has  been  fed  in  large  part  by  Hooker,  by  Butler,  by 
Wesley,  and  by  Arnold,  it  has  also  been  fed,  perhaps  in  a  yet 
larger  part,  by  Milton,  by  Bunyan,  by  Addison,  by  Cowper, 
and  by  Walter  Scott. 

If  we  study  the  process  by  which  false  notions  of  morality 
and  religion  have  been  dispersed,  and  true  notions  of  morality 
and  religion  have  been  introduced,  from  Augustus  to  Charle- 
magne, from  Charlemagne  to  Luther,  from  Luther  to  the  pres- 
ent day  (as  unfolded  in  Mr.  Lecky's  four  volumes),  we  shall 
find  that  the  almost  uniform  law  by  which  the  sins  and  super- 
stitions of  Christendom  have  been  bound  or  loosed  has  been, 
first,  that  the  action  of  some  one  conscience  or  some  few  con- 
sciences— whether  of  statesmen,  students,  priests,  or  soldiers — 
more  enlightened,  more  Christ-like,  than  their  fellows — has 
struck  a  now  light,  or  unwound  some  old  prejudice,  or  opened 
some  new  door  into  truth ;  and  then,  that  this  light  has  been 
caught  up,  this  opening  has  been  widened  by  the  gradual 
advance  of  Christian  wisdom  and  knowledge  in  the  mass. 

What  is  called  the  public  opinion  of  any  age  may  be  in  it- 
self as  misleading,  as  corrupt,  as  the  opinion  of  any  individual. 
It  must  be  touched,  corrected,  purified  by  those  higher  intelli- 
gences and  nobler  hearts,  which  catch  the  light  as  mountain 
sunmiits  before  the  sunrise  has  reached  the  plains.  But  it  is 
only  when  tlic  light  has  reached  the  plains,  only  when  public 
opinion  has  become  so  elevated  by  the  action  of  the  few,  that 


AB80L  UTION.  ^  127 

Providence  affixes  its  seal  to  the  deed — that  the  binding  or 
loosing  is  ratified  in  heaven.  It  is  thus  that  Christian  public 
opinion  is  formed ;  and  when  it  is  formed,  the  sins,  which 
before  reigned  with  a  tyrannical  sway,  fade  away  and  disap- 
pear. 

Such,  for  example,  was  the  drunkenness  of  the  upper  classes 
in  the  last  century.  It  penetrated  all  the  higher  society  of  the 
land.  But  when  by  a  few  resolute  wills,  here  and  there,  now 
and  then,  there  was  created  a  better  and  purer  standard  of 
morals  in  this  respect,  it  perished  as  if  by  an  invisible  blow. 
The  whole  of  educated  society  had  placed  it  under  their  ban, 
and  that  ban  was  ratified  in  heaven — was  ratified  by  the  course 
of  Providence.  It  is  this  same  public  opinion,  which,  if  it  can 
once  be  created  in  the  humbler  classes,  will  also  be  as  powerful 
there.  They  also  have,  if  they  will,  the  same  power  of  retain- 
ing, that  is,  of  imprisoning,  and  condemning,  and  exterminat- 
ing this  deadly  enemy ;  and  by  this  means  alone  will  it  dis- 
appear from  them  as  it  has  disappeared  from  the  society  of 
others  who  were  once  as  completely  slaves  to  it. 

So  again,  to  pass  to  quite  another  form  of  evil,  the  violent 
personal  scurrility  that  used  once  to  disgrace  our  periodical 
literature.  That,  as  a  general  rule,  has  almost  entirely  dis- 
appeared from  the  great  leading  journals  of  the  day.  On  the 
whole  they  are  temperately  expressed,  and  conducted  with 
reasonable  fairness.  The  public  has  become  too  highly 
educated  to  endure  the  coarseness  of  former  times.  But 
in  the  more  confined  organs  of  opinion  the  old  Adam  still 
lingers.  In  some  of  those  newspapers,  which  are  called  by 
a  figure  of  speech  our  religious  journals,  the  scurrility  and 
personal  intolerance  which  once  penetrated  the  great  secular 
journals  still  abide.  That  also,  we  may  trust,  will  gradually 
vanish  as  the  religious  or  ecclesiastical  world  becomes  more 
penetrated  with  the  true  spirit  of  Christianity  which  has 
already  taken  possession  of  the  lay  world. 

III.  It  might  be  enough,  for  the  purpose  of  this  argument, 
to  have  pointed  out  the  original  meaning  of  the  sacred  words, 
and  their  correspondence  to  the  actual  facts  of  history.  But 
the  subject  could  not  be  completed  without  touching,  however 
slightly,  on  the  curious  limitation  and  perversion  of  them 
which  have  taken  place  in  later  times.     This  has  in  great  part 


1^8  CHRISTIAN  IN8TITUTI0N8. 

arisen  from  tlieir  introduction  into  the  liturgical  forms  by 
which  in  some  Christian  Churches  some  of  the 
clergy  are  appointed  to  their  functions.  The  words 
from  St.  John's  Gospel  are  not,  nor  ever  have  been,  used  to 
describe  the  consecration  of  Bishops  or  Archbishops.*  They 
are  not,  nor  ever  have  been,  used  in  the  ordination  of  Deacons 
— an  order  which,  in  the  fourth  century,  exercised  in  some 
respects  a  power  almost  equal  to  that  of  the  Episcopate,  and 
in  our  own  country  has  often  been  intrusted  with  the  most 
important  and  exclusively  pastoral  functions — of  instruction 
visiting,  and  preaching.  Where  used,  they  are  only  used 
in  the  ordination  of  Presbyters  or  (as  in  the  abridged  form 
they  are  unfortunately  called)  Priests.  And  even  for  this 
limited  object  the  introduction  of  the  words  is  comparatively 
recent,  and  probably  the  .result  of  misconception.  It  is  certain 
that  for  the  first  twelve  centuries  they  were  never  used  for  the 
ordination  of  any  Christian  minister.  It  is  certain  that  in  the 
whole  Eastern  Church  they  are  never  used  at  all  for  this  pur- 
pose. It  was  not  till  the  thirteenth  century — the  age  when  the 
materialistic  theories  of  the  sacraments  and  the  extravagant 
pretensions  of  pontifical  and  sacerdotal  power  were  at  their 
height — that  they  were  first  introduced  into  the  Ordinals  of 
the  Latin  Church.  From  thence  they  were,  at  the  Reforma- 
tion, retained  in  the  Ordination  Service  of  the  Episcopal 
Church  of  England,  and  of  the  Presbyterian  Church  of  Luth- 
eran Germany.f 

The  retention  of  these  words  in  these  two  Churches  may 
have  been  occasioned  by  various  causes.  It  is  clear  that  they' 
have  become  a  mere  stumbling-block  and  stone  *of  offence, 
partly  as  unintelligible,  partly  as  giving  rise  to  the  most  mis- 
taken conclusions.  Their  retention  is  confessedly  not  in  con- 
formity, but  in  direct  antagonism,  with  ancient  and  Catholic 


*  In  the  Enpflish  Office  of  Consecrating  Bishops  and  Archbishops,  the  por- 
tion of  the  chapter  which  contains  those  words  is  one  of  the  three  alternative 
Gospels.  But  the  fact  that  it  is  an  alternative,  and  one  rarely  used,  shows 
that  it  is  not  regarded  as  essential.  They  are  also  incorporated  in  a  general 
prayer  in  the  Consecration  of  Bishops  first  found  in  the  Poitiers  Ordinal,  a.d. 
fiOO,  reprinted  by  Baronius  and  Martene.  It  is  contained  in  the  Roman  Pon- 
tifical. 

t  The  whole  antiquarian  and  critical  side  of  the  introduction  of  these  words 
Into  the  Latin  and  Knglish  Ordinal  has  been  worked  out  with  the  utmost  ex- 
actness and  with  the  most  searching  inquiry  by  Archdeacon  Reichel  in  the 
Quartevhj  Ri'Vimr  of  October,  1877,  "  Ordination  and  Confession." 


ABSOLUTION.  .  129 

usages.  It  is  a  mere  copj^  of  a  mediaeval  interpolation,  which 
has  hardly  any  more  claim,  on  historical  or  theological  grounds, 
to  a  place  in  the  English  or  Lutheran  Prayer  Book  than  the 
admission  of  the  existence  of  Pope  Joan  or  of  the  miracle  of 
Bolsena.  And,  so  far  from  these  words  being  regarded  as  a 
necessary  part  of  the  validity  of  Holy  Orders,  such  an  asser- 
tion, if  admitted,  would  of  itself  be  fatal  to  the  validity  of  all 
Holy  Orders  whatever ;  for  it  would  prove  that  every  single 
ordination  for  the  first  twelve  hundred  years  of  Christianity 
was  invalid,  nay,  more,  that  every  present  ordination  in  the 
Roman  Church  itself  was  invalid,  inasmuch  as  iti  the  Ordinal 
itself  these  words  do  not  occur  in  the  essential  parts  of  the 
office,  but  only  in  an  accidental  adjunct  of  it. 

IV.   But  further,  the  phrase  indicates,  even  in  reference  to 
the    subject    of    Confession    and  Absolution,   with 
which  it  has  no  direct  connection,  the  fundamental  and  Atfsolu- 
truth  which  is  incompatible  with  the  exclusive  pos-  tion. 
session  of  this  privilege  by  the  clergy. 

For  the  principle  of  the  texts,  as  we  have  seen,  teaches  us 
that  we  all  have  to  bear  each  other's  burden.  There  is  no 
caste  or  order  of  men  who  can  relieve  us  of  this  dread 
responsibility,  of  this  noble  privilege.  The  clergyman  needs 
the  advice  and  pardon  of  the  gifted  layman  quite  as  much  as 
the  layman  seeks  the  advice  and  pardon  of  the  gifted  clergy- 
man. The  brother  seeks  the  forgiveness  of  the  brother  whom 
he  hath  offended ;  the  child  of  the  parent ;  the  neighbor  of  the 
neighbor.  This  in  the  earliest  times  was  the  real  meaning  of 
Confession.  "  Confess  your  faults,"  says  St.  James — to  whom? 
To  the  elders  of  the  Church  whom  had  he  just  mentioned? 
To  the  Bishop,  or  the  Priest,  or  the  Deacon  ?  No.  "  Confess 
your  faults  one  to  another."  It  is  as  though  he  said,  "  Let 
there  be  mutual  confidence."  Every  one  can  do  his  neighbor 
some  good ;  every  one  can  protest  against  some  evil ;  and  the 
whole  tone  of  the  community  shall  thus  be  raised. 

The  full  sympathy  which  thus  prevailed  amongst  the  mem- 
bers of  the  infant  Church  no  doubt  soon  died  away.  But  its 
semblance  was  long  continued  in  the  only  form  of  confession 
that  was  known  for  four  centuries,  namelv,  the  acknowledg- 
ment of  the  faults  of  the  penitent,  not  in  private,  but  iu  public, 
to  the  whole  congregation,  vho  then  publiclv  expressed  their 


130  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

forgiveness.  The  substitution  of  a  single  priest  for  a  largo 
congregation  as  the  receptacle  of  confession  arose  from  the 
desire  of  avoiding  the  scandals  occasioned  by  the  primitive 
publicity.  It  was  not  till  long  afterwards  that  the  notion 
sprang  up  of  any  special  virtue  attaching  to  the  forgiveness  of 
a  clergyman,  or  that  any  private  or  special  confession  was 
made  to  him.  Even  in  the  very  heart  of  the  Roman  Mass  is 
retained  a  testimony  to  the  independence  and  equality  in  this 
respect  of  people  and  minister.  There,  in  the  most  solemn 
ordinance  of  religion,  the  priest  first  turns  to  the  people  and 
confesses  his  sins  to  them,  and  they  publicly  absolve  him,  in 
exactly  the  same  form  of  words  as  he  uses  when  they  in  their 
turn  publicly  confess  their  faults  to  him.*  This  striking 
passage,  standing  as  it  does  in  the  forefront  of  the  Roman 
Missal,  is  one  of  the  many  variations  in  the  Roman  Church 
which,  if  followed  out  to  its  logical  consequences,  would 
correct  some  of  the  gravest  errors  which  have  sprung  up  with- 
in its  pale.  It  has  probably  escaped  attention  from  the  dead 
language  and  the  inaudible  manner  in  which  it  is  repeated. 
But  it  is  not  the  less  significant  in  itself ;  and  had  it  been 
transferred  to  the  English  Prayer  Book,  where  the  vitality  of 
the  language  and  the  more  audible  mode  of  reading  the  service 
would  have  brought  it  into  prominence,  it  would  have  more 
than  counterbalanced  those  two  or  three  ambiguous  passages 
on  the  subject  which  the  Reformers  left  in  the  Liturgy. 

There  is  a  story  told  of  James  I.,  who  when,  after  indulging 
in  a  furious  passion  against  a  faithful  servant,f  he  found  that 
it  was  under  a  mistake,  sent  for  him  immediately,  would 
neither  eat,  drink,  nor  sleep  till   he  saw  him,  and  when  the 


♦The  Priest  says,  "Conflteor  Deo  Omnipotenti,  Beatae  Marias  semper  Vir- 
gini,"  etc..  '"et  vobis,  fratres,  quia  peccavi  nimis  cogitatione,  verbo,  et  opere, 
mea  culpa,  mea  culpa,  mea  maxima  culpa.  Ideo  i)re<'or  beatam  Mariam 
semper  Virginem,"  etc.,  "et  vos,  fratres,  orare  pro  me  ad  Dominum  Deum 
nostrum."  The  attendants  reply,  "Misereatur  tui  Omiiipotens  Deus,  et, 
dimissis  peccatis  tuis,  perducat  te  ad  vitam  spternam."  Ihe  Priest  says 
Amen,  and  stands  up.  Then  the  attendants  repeat  the  confession,  only 
changing  the  words  "vobis,  fratres"  and  "vos  fratres"  into  "tibi,  pater" 
and  "te,  pater,"  and  the  Priest  replies  in  like  words.  Finally  the  Priest, 
signing  hmiself  with  the  sign  of  the  cross,  says,  "  Indulgentiam,  absolu- 
tionem  et  remissionem  peccatorum  iiostrorum  tribuet  nobis  Omnipotens  et 
Misericors  Dominus;"  which  is  evidently  a  joint  absolution  for  both  himself 
and  the  people.  The  form  "Ego  absolvo  te"  is,  as  before  observed,  of  a 
much  later  date. 

t  Aikin,  Life  of  James  I.  (ii.  403). 


ABSOLUTION.  131 

servant  entered  his  chamber  the  King  kneeled  down  and 
begged  his  pardon;  nor  would  he  rise  from  his  humble 
posture  till  he  had  compelled  the  astonished  servant  to  pro- 
nounce the  words  of  absolution.  That  was  a  grotesque  but 
genuine  form  of  penitence ;  that  was  a  grotesque  but  legiti- 
mate form  of  absolution.  There  was  a  story  told  during  the 
Turkish  war  of  1877,  that  a  Roumanian  soldier,  after  having 
received  the  sacraments  from  a  priest  on  his  death-bed,  would 
not  be  satisfied  till  he  had  obtained  an  interview  with  the 
excellent  Princess  of  Roumania.  To  her  he  explained  that 
he  had  tried  to  escape  from  the  dangers  of  the  battle  by  muti- 
lating one  of  his  fingers ;  and  against  her  and  her  husband, 
the  Prince  of  Roumania,  he  felt  that  this  offence  had  been 
committed.  From  the  Princess,  and  not  from  the  priest,  he 
felt  must  the  forgiveness  come  which  alone  could  bring  any 
comfort  to  him.  That  forgiveness  was  whispered  into  the 
dying  man's  ear  by  the  Princess;  with  that  forgiveness,  not 
sacerdotal,  but  truly  human,  and  therefore  truly  divine,  the 
penitent  soldier  passed  in  peace  to  his  rest.*  In  fact,  the 
moment  that  we  admit  the  efficacy  of  repentance,  we  deny  the 
necessity  of  any  special  absolution.  An  incantation,  of  which 
the  virtue  rests  in  the  words  pronounced,  is  equally  valid 
whether  the  person  over  whom  it  is  pronounced  is  guilty  or 
innocent,  conscious  or  unconscious.  But  the  moment  that  the 
moral  condition  of  the  recipient  is  acknowledged  as  a  necessary 
element,  that  of  itself  becomes  the  chief  part,  and  the  repeti- 
tion of  certain  words  may  be  edifying,  but  is  not  essential. 
The  welfare  of  the  hearer's  soul  depends  not  on  any  external 
absolution,  but  on  its  own  intrinsic  state.  The  value  of  any 
absolution  or  forgiveness  depends  not  on  the  external  condition 
of  the  man  who  pronounces  it,  but  on  the  intrinsic  truth  of 
the  forgiveness. 

Not  long  ago,  when  a  French  ship  foundered  in  the 
Atlantic,  a  brave  French  priest  was  overheard  repeating  the 
absolution  in  the  last  moments  of  life  to  a  fellow-countrymen. 
All  honor  to  him  for  the  gallant  discharge  of  what  he  believed 
to  be  his  duty!  But  is  there  a  single  reflecting  man,  whether 
Catholic  or  Protestant,  who  would  not  feel  that  the  interven- 

*  The  Times,  Nov.  2,  1877. 


132  CHBI8TIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

tion  of  a  priest  at  that  moment  was  in  itself  absolutely 
indifferent?  At  all  times  the  Bible  and  the  enlightened 
conscience  repeatedly  assure  us  that  that  which  commends 
a  departing  spirit  to  its  Creator  and  Judge  is  not  the  accidental 
circumstance  of  his  listening  to  a  particular  form  of  words 
uttered  by  a  particular  person,  but  the  sincerity  of  repentance, 
the  uprightness,  the  humility,  the  purity,  the  faithfulness  of 
the  man  himself. 

It  may  be  a  consolation  to  us  to  hear  from  well-known  lips 
which  speak  to  us  with  tenderness,  with  knowledge,  and  with 
justice,  the  assurance  that  we  are  regarded  as  innocent :  it 
may  be  a  consolation  to  hear  with  our  outward  ears  the 
solemn  declarations  that  the  Supreme  Father  is  always  ready  to 
receive  the  returning  penitent;  that  the  soul  which  returns 
from  evil  and  does  what  is  lawful  and  right  shall  surely  live. 
But  this  assurance,  by  the  nature  of  the  case,  is  well  known  to 
us  already  from  hundreds  of  passages  in  the  Bible,  and  from 
the  knowledge  of  human  nature.  And  also  it  can  come  from 
any  one  whom  we  respect,  from  any  one  whom  we  may  have 
injured,  from  any  one  who  will  give  us  a  true,  disinterested 
verdict  on  our  worse  and  on  our  better  qualities.  It  is  finely 
described  in  a  well-known  tale — "  The  Heir  of  Redclyffe  "^ 
that  when  the  obstinate  Pharisaical  youth,  at  last,  in  bitter 
remorse- acknowledges  his  fault  to  the  wife  of  the  man  whom 
he  has  mortally  injured,  she  takes  upon  herself  to  console  him 
and  absolve  him,  and  her  absolution  consists  in  repeating  the 
words  of  the  Psalmist:  "The  sacrifices  of  God  are  a  troubled 
spirit ;  a  broken  and  a  contrite  heart,  0  God,  wilt  Thou  not 
despise."  No  Pontifical  decree  could  say  more  ;  no  true  for- 
giveness could  say  less.  "Whenever  any  man  is  able  to  see 
clearly  that  his  fellow-man  has  truly  repented,  or  that  a  course 
of  action  is  clear  and  right — then,  whoever  he  be,  he  can 
declare  that  promise  of  God's  forgiveness.  In  all  cases  each 
man  must  strive  to  act  on  his  own  judgment  and  on  his  own 
conscience.  The  first  duty  of  the  penitent  is  to  try  to  mini- 
ster to  liis  own  disease.  "The  heart  knoweth  his  own  bitter- 
ness, and  a  stranger  doth  not  intermeddle  with  his  joy." 

Why  should  we  faint  or  fear  to  live  alone. 
Since  all  alone,  so  Heav'n  has  will'd,  we  die? 

The  next  duty  may  be  to  get  sound  advice  on   his  future 


ABSOLUTION.  133 

course.  But  that  advice  can  be  given  by  any  competent 
person^  and  the  competency  depends  not  on  any  minis- 
terial or  sacerdotal  character,  but  on  personal  insight  into 
character  to  be  found  equally  in  layman  and  clergyman. 

It  is  a  duty  to  cultivate  the  conviction  that  we  all  alike  need 
to  be  guided  and  be  forgiven,  and  to  have  our  course  made 
clear.  All  alike,  according  to  the  several  gifts  which  God  has 
bestowed  on  the  vast  family  of  mankind,  have  the  power  to 
forgive,  to  assist,  to  enlighten  each  other.  In  the  last  resort 
there  is  no  one  to  be  considered  or  regarded,  but  our  own  im- 
mortal struggling  souls  and  the  One  eternally  Just  and  Merci- 
ful God.  Our  own  responsibility  must  be  maintained  without 
shifting  it  to  the  keeping  of  any  one  else.  We,  all  of  us,  each 
with  some  different  gift,  are  the  inheritors  of  the  promise  to 
bind  and  to  loose — that  is,  to  warn  and  to  console  our  breth- 
ren, as  we  in  like  manner  hope  to  be  warned  and  consoled  by 
them. 

V.  Such  is  the  summary  of  this  question  needlessly  compli- 
cated by  irrelevant  discussions.  The  texts  on  which  the  popu- 
lar theory  and  practice  of  absolution  are  grounded  its  true 
are,  as  we  have  seen,  altogether  beside  the  purpose,  meaning. 
They  no  more  relate  to  it  than  the  promise  to  Peter  relates  to 
the  Popes  of  Rome,  or  than  Isaiah's  description  of  the  ruin  of 
the  Assyrian  King  imder  the  figure  of  Lucifer  relates  to  the 
Fall  of  the  Angels,  or  than  the  two  swords  at  the  Last  Supper 
relate  to  the  spiritual  and  secular  jurisdiction,  or  than  the  sun 
and  moon  in  the  first  chapter  of  Genesis  relate  to  the  Pope 
and  the  Emperor.  In  all  these  cases,  the  misinterpretation  has 
been  long  and  persistent;  in  all  these,  it  is  acknowledged  by  all 
scholars,  out^ide  the  Roman  communion,  that  they  are  abso- 
lutely without  foundation. 

And,  as  the  misinterpretation  of  the  texts  on  which  the 
theory  of  Episcopal  or  Presbyterian  absolution  rests  will  die 
out  before  a  sound  understanding  of  the  Biblical  records,  so 
also  the  theory  and  practice  itself,  though  with  occasional  re- 
crudescences, will  probably  die  out  with  the  advance  of  civil- 
ization. The  true  power  of  the  clergy  will  not  be  diminished 
but  strengthened  by  the  loss  of  this  fictitious  attribute.  Noma 
of  the  Fitful  Head  was  a  happier  and  more  useful  member  of 
society  after  she  abandoned  her  magical  arts  than  when  she 


134  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

practised  them.  In  proportion  as  England  has  become,  and  in 
proportion  as  it  will  yet  more  become,  a  truly  free  and  truly 
educated  people,  able  of  itself  to  bind  what  ought  to  be  bound, 
and  to  loose  what  ought  to  be  loosed,  in  that  proportion  will 
the  belief  in  priestly  absolution  vanish,  just  as  the  belief  in 
wizards  and  necromancers  has  vanished  before  the  advance  of 
science.  As  alchemy  has  disappeared  to  give  place  to  chemis- 
try, as  astrology  has  given  way  to  astronomy,  as  monastic 
celibacy  has  given  way  to  domestic  purity,  as  bull-fights  and 
bear-baits  have  given  way  to  innocent  and  elevating  amuse- 
ments, as  scholastic  casuistry  has  bowed  before  the  philosophy 
of  Bacon  and  Pascal,  so  will  the  belief  in  the  magical  oflSces 
of  a  sacerdotal  caste  vanish  before  the  growth  of  manly  Chris- 
tian independence  and  generous  Christian  sympathy. 


ECVLESIA8TI0AL    VE8TMENT8.  135 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

ECCLESIASTICAL    VESTMENTS. 

At  a  time  when  all  Churches  are  or  ought  to  be  occupied 
with  so  many  important  questions,  when  so  many  interesting 
inquiries  have  arisen  with  regard  to  the  origin  and  the  inter- 
pretation of  the  Sacred  Books,  when  theadjiistment  of  science 
and  theology  needs  more  than  ever  to  be  properly  balanced, 
when  the  framework  of  the  English  Prayer  Book  requires  so 
many  changes  and  expansions  in  order  to  meet  the  wants  of 
the  time,  when  measures  for  the  conciliation  of  our  Noncon- 
formist brethren  press  so  closely  on  the  hearts  and  consciences 
of  those  who  care  for  peace  and  truth,  when  so  many  social 
and  political  problems  are  crying  for  solution,  some  apology  is 
due  for  treating  of  a  subject  so  apparently  trival  as  the  Vest- 
ments of  the  Clergy.  But,  inasmuch  as  it  has  nevertheless 
occupied  considerable  attention  in  the  English  Church,  its  dis- 
cussion cannot  be  altogether  out  of  place. 

What  has  to  be  said  will  be  divided  into  two  parts:  the 
first,  an  antiquarian  investigation  into  the  origin  of  ecclesias- 
tical vestments ;  the  second,  some  practical  remarks  on  the 
present  state  of  the  controversy  in  England. 

I.  The  antiquarian  investigation  of  this  matter  is  not  in 
itself  devoid  of  interest.  It  belongs  to  the  general  survey  of 
the  origin  of  usages  and  customs  in  the  early  ages  of  Chris- 
tianity. The  conclusion  to  which  it  leads  is  that  the  dress  of 
the  clergy  had  no  distinct  intention — symbolical,  sacerdotal, 
sacrificial,  or  mystical ;  but  originated  simply  in  the  fashions 
common  to  the  whole  community  of  the  Roman  Empire  during 
the  three  first  centuries. 

There  is  nothing  new  to  be  said  in  favor  of  this  conclusion. 
But  it  has  nevertheless  been,  and  is  still,  persistently  denied. 
In  spite  of  the  assertion  to  the  contrary  of  Cardinal  Bona, 
Pere  Thomassin,  Dr.  Rock,  and  our  own  lamented  Wharton 
Marriott,  it  has  been  asserted,  both  by  the  admirers  and  de- 


136  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

preciators  of  clerical  vestments,  that  they  were  borrowed  in 
the  first  instance  (to  use  Milton's  phrase  in  his  splendid  invec- 
tive against  the  English  clergy)  "  from  Aaron's  wardrobe  or  the 
Flaraen's  vestry  ;"  that  they  are  intrinsically  marks  of  distinc- 
tion between  the  clergy  and  the  laity,  between  the  Eucharist 
and  every  other  religious  service,  between  a  sacerdotal  and  an 
anti-sacerdotal  view  of  the  Christian  ministry — that  if  they 
are  abolished,  all  is  lost  to  the  idea  of  a  Christian  priesthood ; 
that  if  they  are  retained,  all  is  gained. 

In  face  then  of  these  reiterated  statements,  it  may  not  be 
out  of  place  to  prove  that  every  one  of  them  is  not  only  not 
true,  but  is  the  reverse  of  the  truth  ;  that  if  they  symbolize 
anything,  they  symbolize  ideas  the  contrary  of  those  now  as- 
cribed to  them. 

II.  Let  us,  in  our  mind's  eye,  dress  up  a  lay  figure  at  the 
time  of  the  Christian  era,  when  the  same  general  costume  per- 
vaded  all  classes  of  the  Roman  Empire,  from  Pales- 
ancient  tine  to  Spain,  very  much  as  the  costume  of  the 
world.  nineteenth  century  pervades  at  least  all  the  upper 

classes  of  Europe  now. 

The  Roman,*  Greek,  or  Syrian,  whether  gentleman  or 
peasant,  unless  in  exceptional  cases,  had  no  hat,  no  coat,  no 
waistcoat,  and  no  trousers.  He  had  shoes  or  sandals;  he  wore 
next  his  skin,  first,  a  shirt  or  jacket,  double  or  single;  then  a 
long  shawl  or  plaid;  and  again,  especially  in  the  later  Roman 
period,  a  cloak  or  overcoat. f 

1.  The  first,  or  inner  garb,  if  we  strip  the  ancient  Roman  to 
his  shirt,  was  what  is  called  in  classical  Greek,  chiton  ;  in  clas- 
sical Latin,  tunica;  a  woollen  vest,  which  some- 
times had  beneath  it  another  fitting  close  to  the  skin, 
called  subucula  or  interula,  or,  in  the  case  of  soldiers,  catnisia.'l 


*  As  the  vestments  in  question  are  chiefly  those  of  the  Latin  Church,  these 
remarks  apply  more  to  the  dress  of  the  Western  than  of  the  Eastern  popula- 
tion of  the  Enipire.  But  in  general  (as  appears  even  from  tlie  New  Testa- 
ment alone,  without  referring  to  secular  authorities)  the  dress  even  of  the 
Syrian  peasants  was  substantially  the  same  as  that  of  the  Greek  or  the 
Roman. 

+  For  the  general  dress,  see,  for  the  Greek,  Bekker's  Charicle.t.  pp.  402-20; 
for  the  Roman.  Bekker's  Gallus,  pp.  401-30;  for  the  Syrian,  Smith's  Diction- 
ary of  the  Bible,  under  D7-ess;  for  the  ecclesiastical  dresses,  Smith's  Diction' 
ai-y  of  Christian  Antiquities,  under  the  different  words. 

X  St.  Jerome,  Epist.  64,  ad  Fabiolam.  He  apologizes  for  using  so  vulgar  a 
word  as  camisia. 


ECCLESIASTICAL    VESTMENTS.  137 

It  is  this  name  of  camisia  which,  under  the  name  of  chemise, 
has  gradually  superseded  the  others,  and  which  has  been  per- 
petuated in  ecclesiastical  phraseology  under  another  synonyme 
derived  from  its  white  color  (for  shirts,  with  the  ancients  as 
with  the  moderns,  were  usually  white),  and  hence  it  came  to 
be  called  an  alb. 

This  is  the  dress  which  became  appropriated  specially  to 
the  Deacon.  He,  as  the  working-man  of  the  clergy,  officiated, 
as  it  were,  in  his  shirt  sleeves. 

But  as  the  homeliest  garments  are  subject  to  the  varieties  of 
fashion,  the  shirt,  the  chemise,  the  camisia,  whether  of  Pagan 
or  Christian,  had  two  forms.*  The  simpler  or  more  ancient 
was  an  under-shirt  with  short  sleeves,  or  rather  with  no  sleeves 
at  all,  called  in  Greek  f  exom,is,  in  Latin  colobium.  The  more 
costly  form  may  be  compared  to  the  .shirt  of  Charles  II., 
with  fine  ruffles.  It  was  called  the  Dalmatica,  from  its  birth- 
place Dalmatia — in  the  same  way  as  the  cravats  of  the  French 
in  the  seventeenth  century  were  called  Steinkerks  from  the 
battle  of  that  name ;  or  the  Ulsters  of  the  present  day  from 
the  northern  province  of  Ireland.  The  first  J  persons  recorded 
to  have  worn  it  are  the  infamous  Emperors  Commodus  and 
Ileliogabalus.  It  was  thought  an  outrage  on  all  propriety 
when  Heliogabahis  appeared  publicly  in  this  dress  in  the  streets 
after  dinner,  calling  himself  a  second  Fabius  or  Scipio,  because 
it  was  the  sort  of  frock  which  the  Cornelii  or  Fabii  were  wont 
to  wear  in  their  childhood  when  they  were  naughty  boys.  It 
was  as  if  some  English  magnate  were  to  walk  up  St.  James's 
Street  in  his  dressing-gown.  But  the  fashion  spread  rapidly, 
and  thirty  years  afterwards  appears  as  the  dress  of  Cyprian, 
Bishop  of  Carthage,  when  led  out  to  death — not,  however,  in 
that  instance  as  his  outer  garment.  It  became  fixed  as  the 
name  of  the  dress  of  the  deacon  after  the  time  of  Constantine, 
when  it  superseded  the  original  colobium ;  and  although  it 
quickly  spread  to  the  other  orders,  it  is  evident  that  it 
was,  for  the  reasons  above  given,  particularly  suitable  to  the 
inferior  clergy,  who,  as  having  nothing  over  it,  would  seem  to 


*  Bona  1,  14;  Thomassin,  Vetus  et  Nova  Disciplinn,  ii.  2,  49.  That  in  Greece 
there  was  generally  an  under  shirt  and  an  outer  shirt  is  proved  in  Char  idea, 
p.  406. 

t  Chariclea,  415.  t  Bingham,  vi.  4  19. 


138  CHBISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

require  a  more  elaborate  shirt.  This  was  the  first  element  of 
ecclesiastical  vestments,  as  deacons  were  the  first  elements  of  a 
Christian  ministry. 

In  later  times,  after  the  invasion  of  the  Northern  barbarians, 
this  shirt,  which  must,  perhaps,  always  have  been  worn  over 
some  thicker  garment  next  the  skin,  was  drawn  over  the  fur 
coat,  sheepskin,  or  otter  skin,  the  pellisse  of  the  Northern 
nations;  and  hence  in  the  twelfth  century  arose  the  barbarous 
name  of  super-pellicimn,  or  surplice — the  over/ur.  Its  name 
indicates  that  it  is  the  latest  of  ecclesiastical  vestments,  and 
though,  like  all  the  others,  generally  worn  *  both  by  clergy  and 
laity,  in-doors  and  out-of-doors,  is  the  most  remote  in  descent 
from  primitive  times.  Another  form  of  this  dress — also,  as  its 
German  name  implies,  dating  from  the  invasion  of  the  barbari- 
ans— was  the  rochet  or  rocket,  "  the  little  rock "  or  "  coat " 
worn  by  the  mediaeval  bishops  out-of-doors  on  all  occasions, 
except  when  they  went  out  hunting;  and  which  now  is  to  them 
what  the  surplice  is  to  presbyters.  The  lawn  sleeves  f  are 
merely  an  addition  to  make  up  for  the  long-flowing  sleeves  of 
the  surplice. 

But  in  both  cases  the  fur  coat  within  was  the  nsual  dress,  of 
which  the  overfur  was,  as  it  were,  merely  the  mask.  Charle- 
magne in  winter  wore  an  otter-skin  breastplate  ^  and  hunted 
in  sheepskin.  The  butcher  of  Rouen,  who  was  saved  alone  out 
of  the  crew  of  the  Blanche  Nef,  wore  a  sheepskin,  St.  Martin, 
Apostle  of  the  Gauls,  and  the  first  Bishop  of  Tours,  when  he 
officiated  wore  also  a  sheepskin — a  fur  coat  (as  it  would  seem 
with  no  surplice  over  it,  and  with  no  sleeves),  and  consecrated 
the  Eucharistic  elements  with  his  bare  arms,  which  came 
through  the  sheepskin  like  those  of  the  sturdy  deacons  who 
had  brandished  their  sinewy  arms  out  of  the  holes  of  their 
colohium. 

2.  The  second  part  of  the  dress  was  a  shawl  or  blanket, 

wrapt  round  the  shoulders  over  the  shirt,  in  Greek  himation, 

in   Latin  toga,  or  pallium.     This  also  was  usually 

white  as  the  common  color  of  the  ancient  dress, 

which  is  still  perpetuated  in  the  white  flannel  robe  of  the  Pope, 


♦  Tbomassin,  il.  2,  48.  t  Hody,  On  Convocation. 

X  Thomassln,  il.  2,  c.  48,  69. 


ECCLESIASTICAL    VESTMENTS.  139 

but  marked  with  a  broad  purple  stripe.  This  is  what  appears, 
in  the  early  portion  of  the  fourth  century,  as  the  dress  equally 
of  ecclesiastics  and  laity.  After  the  fourth  century  the  Chris- 
tians affected  the  use  of  black  shawls  (like  the  Geneva  divines 
of  the  sixteenth  century),  in  order  to  imitate  the  philosophers 
and  ascetics.  Of  the  general  adoption  of  the  black  dress,  an 
interesting  illustration  is  given  in  the  case  of  the  Bishop  Sisin- 
nius,  who  chose  to  wear  white,  and  when  he  was  asked  what 
command  in  Scripture  he  found  for  his  white  surplice,  replied, 
"  What  command  is  there  for  wearing  black  ? "  *  For  reasons 
which  will  appear  immediately,  there  are  fewer  traces  of  this 
part  of  the  ancient  dress  than  of  any  other  in  the  vestments  of 
the  clergy.  The  only  relic  of  the  Roman  toga  or  pallium 
remains  in  the  2><^ll  of  an  Archbishop,  which  is  only  the  string 
which  held  it  together,  or  the  broad  stripe  which  marked  its 
surface. 

3.  The  third  part  of  the  ancient  dress,  and  that  from  which 
the  larger  part  of  the  ecclesiastical  vestments  are  derived,  was 
the  overcoat,  in  Latin  lacerna  or  j^f^nula,  in  Greek  The  over- 
phcelone.  It  ought  perhaps  to  have  been  worn  over  ^°^^- 
the  toga,  but  was  sometimes  for  convenience  worn  instead 
of  it,  and  at  last,  after  the  discontinuance  of  the  toga,j[ — 
which  for  practical  purposes  came  to  be  much  like  our 
evening  dress  coat,  and  vvas  thus,  after  the  Empire,  only 
worn  on  official  occasions, — the  overcoat  came  to  be  the  usual 
dress  as  frock  coats,  shooting  coats,  and  the  like  are  worn  in 
general  morning  society  in  England.  What  had  once  been 
regarded  only  as  a  rough  soldier's  garb,  unsuitable  within  the 
city,  came  to  be  worn  everywhere.  It  was  for  the  most  part 
like  a  poncho,  or  cape,  or  burnous,^  but  it  consisted  of  several 
varieties. 

There  was  the  birrhus,  or  scarlet  cloak,  worn  by  Athanasius, 
as  a  wealthy  person,  when  he  visited  the  mysterious  ladv§  in 
Alexandria,  but  not  thought  by  Augustine  suitable  to  his 
poverty.  There  was  the  caracalla,  a  long  overall,  brought  by 
Antoninus  Bassianus  from  France,  whence  he  derived  his  name 


*  Bingham,  vi.  4,  19;  Socrates,  vi.  20;  Thomassin,  i.  8-24 

+  Marriott,  Vestiarium,  p.  xii. 

1  So  it  is  translated  in  the  Coptic  Liturgy. 

§  Marriott,  pp.  Ivi.  16. 


140  CHBISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

— and  it  was  this  which  was  corrupted  into  casacalla,  casaca, 
and  finally  cassock.  It  had  a  hood,  and  was  called  in  Greek 
amphibalus,  and  as  such  appears  in  the  account  of  the  perse- 
cution of  St.  Alban,*  where,  by  a  strange  confusion,  the  name 
of  Amphibalus  has  been  supposed  to  represent  the  name  of 
a  saint.  The  word  cassock,  although  highly  esteemed,  has 
never  reached  so  high  a  pitch  of  reverence. 

The  same  form  of  dress  was  also  called  casula,  a  slang  name 
used  b}^  the  Italian  laborers  j-  for  the  capote,  which  they  called 
"  their  little  house,"  as  "  tile  "  is — or  was  a  short  time  ago — 
used  for  a  "  hat,"  and  as  "  coat"  is  the  same  word  as  "  cote," 
or  "  cottage."  It  is  this  which  took  the  name  of  chasuble, 
and  was  afterwards  especially  known  as  the  out-door  garment 
of  the  clergy,  as  the  sar/um  was  of  the  laity,  and  was  not 
adopted  as  a  vestment  for  sacred  services  before  the  ninth 
century.  Another  name  by  which  it  was  called  was  planeta, 
"  the  wanderer,"  because  it  wandered  loosely  over  the  body, 
as  one  of  these  overcoats  in  our  day  has  been  called  "  zephyr." 
This  was  the  common  overcoat  of  the  wealthier,  as  the  casula 
of  the  humbler  classes. 

Another  form  of  overcoat  was  the  capa,  or  copa,  "  the 
hood  " — also  called  the  pluviale,\  or  "  waterproof,"  to  be  worn 
in  rainy  weather  out-of-doors.  It  was  this  cape,  or  cope,  that 
St.  Martin  divided  with  the  beggar  at  the  gates  of  Amiens, 
and  hence  (according  to  one  derivation  of  the  word)  the 
capetla,  or  chapel,  where  the  fragment  of  his  cape  was  pre- 
served. It  is  the  vestment  of  which  the  secular  use  has  long- 
est retained  its  hold,  having  been  worn  by  Bishops  in  Parlia- 
ment, by  Canons  at  coronations,  and  by  lay  vicars,  almsmen, 
and  the  like,  on  other  similar  occasions,  till  quite  recently. 

Another  form  of  the  same  garb,  though  of  a  lighter  tex- 
ture, and  chiefly  used  by  ladies  in  riding,  was  the  cyinar,  or 
chimere,%  of  which  the  trace  still  lingers  in  the  bishop's  satin 
robe,  which  so  vexed  the  soul  of  Bishop  Hooper,  and  which 
had  to  be  forced  on  him  almost  at  the  point  of  the  sword — 
but  which  now  apparently  is  cast  ||  aside  by  advocates  of  the 
modern  use  of  clerical  vestments. 

•  Bede,  H.  E.  i.  6. 

+  Columella,  Isidore,  Augustine ;  see  Marriott,  pp.  228.  202. 

X  Marriott,  p.  229.  §  Arclia'ologia.  xxx.  27. 

I  See  the  recent  account  of  the  installation  of  the  Bishop  of  Capetown. 


ECCLESIASTICAL    VESTMENTS  141 

The  mitre,  as  worn  in  the  Eastern  Church,  may  still  bo  seen 
in  the  museums  of  Russia,  as  the  caps  or  turbans,  worn  on 
festive  occasions  in  ancient  days  by  princes  and  nobles,  and 
even  to  this  day  by  the  peasant  women.  The  division  into 
two  points,  which  appears  in  Western  mitres,  is  only  the 
mark  of  the  crease  which  is  the  consequence  of  its  having 
been,  like  an  opera  hat,  folded  and  carried  under  the  arm. 

The  stole  *  (which,  in  Greek,  is  simply  another  word  for  the 
overcoat,  or  pcenula)  in  the  ninth  century  came  to  be  used  for 
the  "  orarium."  This  was  a  simple  handkerchief  for  blowing 
the  nose,  or  wiping  oflE  the  sweat  from  the  face.  These 
handkerchiefs,  on  state  occasions,  were  used  as  ribbons, 
streamers,  or  scarfs  ;  and  hence  their  adoption  by  the  deacons, 
who  bad  little  else  to  distinguish  them.  When  Sir  James 
Brooke  first  returned  from  Borneo,  where  the  only  sign  of 
royalty  was  to  hold  a  kerchief  in  the  hand,  he  retained  the 
practice  in  England. 

III.  Before  we  pass  to  any  practical  application,  it  may  be 
remarked  that  this  historical  inquiry  has  a  twofold  interest. 
First,  the  condition  of  the  early  Church,  which  is  Their  secu- 
indicated  in  this  matter  of  dress,  is  but  one  of  a  i^'"  origin. 
hundred  similar  examples  of  the  secular  and  social  origin  of 
many  usages  which  are  now  regarded  as  purely  ecclesiastical, 
and  yet  more,  of  the  close  connection,  or  rather  identity,  of 
common  and  religious,  of  lay  and  clerical  life,  which  it  has 
been  the  effort  of  fifteen  centuries  to  rend  asunder.  One  of 
the  treasures  f  which  King  Edward  III.  presented  to  West- 
minster Abbey,  were  "  the  vestments  in  which  St.  Peter  was 
wont  to  celebrate  mass."  What  those  mediaeval  relics  were 
we  know  not,  but  what  the  actual  vestment  of  St.  Peter  was 
we  know  perfectly  well — it  was  a  "fisher's  coat;];  cast  about 
his  naked  body."  In  like  manner,  the  Church  of  Rome  itself 
is  not  so  far  wrong  when  it  exhibits  in  St.  John  Lateran,  the 


*  Thomassin,  8,  245.  He  is  perplexed,  and  justly,  by  the  difficulty  of  under- 
standing how  the  ''stola,'"  which  was  the  word  for  the  whole  dress,  should 
have  been  appropriated  to  such  a  small  matter  as  the  handkerchief.  An  ex- 
planation is  attempted  in  Marriott,  pp.  75,  84,  90.  112,  115,  Lxiii. 

t  Adam  de  Murimuth,  Jkirl.  MS.  5U5,  vol.  206. 

t  In  like  manner  the  only  mention  of  St.  Paul's  vestments  is  the  allusion  to 
his  cloak— the  p/tce/oue— described  in  p.  139.  The  casual  notice  of  itself  pre- 
cludes the  notion  of  a  sacred  vestment.    2  Tim.  iv.  13. 


142  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

altar  at  which  St.  Peter  fulfilled — if  he  ever  did  fulfil — the 
same  functions.  It  is  not  a  stone  or  marble  monument,  but 
a  rough  wooden  table,  such  as  would  have  been  used  at  any 
common  meal.  And  the  churches  in  which,  we  do  not  say 
St.  Peter,  for  there  were  no  churches  in  his  time,  but  in 
which  the  Bishops  of  the  third  and  fourth  centuries  oflaciated, 
are  not  copies  of  Jewish  or  Pagan  temples,  but  of  town-halls 
and  courts  of  justice.  And  the  posture  in  which  they  ofllici- 
ated  was  not  that  of  the  modern  Roman  priest,  with  his  back 
to  the  people,  but  that  of  the  ancient  Roman  praetor,*  facing 
the  people — for  whose  sake  he  was  there.  And  the  Latin 
language,  now  regarded  as  consecrated  to  religious  purposes, 
was  but  the  vulgar  dialect  of  the  Italian  peasants.  And  the 
Eucharist  itself  was  the  daily  social  meal,  in  which  the  only 
sacrifice  offered  was  the  natural  thanksgiving,  offered  not  by 
the  presiding  minister,  but  by  all  those  who  brought  their 
contributions  from  the  kindly  fruits  of  the  earth. 

We  do  not  deny  that  in  those  early  ages  there  were  many 
magical  and  mystical  notions  afloat.  In  a  society  where  the 
whole  atmosphere  was  still  redolent  of  strange  rites,  of  Pagan 
witchcraft  and  demonology,  there  is  quite  enough  to  make  us 
rejoice  that  even  the  mediaeval  Church  had,  in  some  respects, 
made  a  great  advance  on  the  Church  of  the  first  ages.  What 
we  maintain  is,  that  in  the  matter  of  vestments,  as  in  many 
other  respects,  the  primitive  Church  was  not  infected  by  these 
superstitions,  and  is  a  witness  against  them.  They  arc  incon- 
trovertible proofs  that  there  was  a  large  mass  of  sentiment  and 
of  usage,  which  was  not  only  not  mediaeval,  not  hierarchical, 
but  the  very  reverse;  a  mine  of  Protestantism — of  Quakerism 
if  we  will — which  remained  there  to  explode,  when  the  time 
came,  into  the  European  Reformation.  They  coincide  with 
the  fact  which  Bishop  Lightfoot  has  proved  in  his  unanswer- 
able Essay,!  that  the  idea  of  a  separate  clerical  priesthood 
was  unknown  to  the  early  Church.  They  remain  in  the 
ancient  Roman  ritual,  with  other  well-known  discordant  ele- 
ments, a  living  protest  against  the  modern  theories  which  have 
been  engrafted  upon  it. 


•  See  tlie  chapters  on  the  Basilica  and  on  the  Pope. 

t  Bishop  Laghti'oot's  Cutnrnentary  on  the  Philippians,  pp.  247- 


ECCLESIASTICAL    VESTMENTS.  143 

Secondly,  there  is  the  interest  of  following  out  the  trans- 
formation of  these  names  and  garments.  How  early  the 
transition  from  secular  to  sacred  use  took  place,  it  Their  trans- 
is  difficult  to  determine  ;  but  it  was  gradually,  and  formation, 
by  unequal  steps.  It  is  said  f  that  even  to  the  ninth  century 
there  were  Eastern  clergy  who  celebrated  the  Eucharist  in 
their  common  costume.  In  the  original  Benedictine  rule  the 
conventual  dress  was  so  well  understood  to  be  merely  the 
ordinary  dress  of  the  neighboring  peasants,  that  in  the 
sketches  of  early  monastic  life  at  Monte  Casino  the  monks 
are  represented  in  blue,  green,  or  black,  with  absolute  indiffer- 
ence. But  now  the  distinction  between  the  lay  and  clerical 
dress,  which  once  existed  nowhere,  has  become  universal.  It 
is  not  confined  to  ancient  or  to  Episcopal  Churches.  It  is 
found  in  the  Churches  of  Presbyterians  and  Nonconformists. 
The  extreme  simplicity  of  the  utmost  *'  dissidence  of  Dis- 
sent" has,  in  this  respect,  departed  further  from  primitive 
practice  than  it  has  from  any  Pontifical  or  ritual  splendor. 
A  distinguished  Baptist  minister,  one  of  the  most  popular 
preachers,  and  one  of  the  most  powerful  ecclesiastics  in  Lon- 
don, was  shocked  to  find  that  he  could  not  preach  in  Calvin's 
church  at  Geneva  without  adopting  the  gown,  and  naturally 
refused  to  wear  it  except  under  protest.  But  even  he,  in  his 
London  Tabernacle,  had  already  fallen  away  from  the  primi- 
tive simplicity  which  acknowledged  no  difference  of  dress 
between  the  clergy  and  the  laity, — for  he  as  well  as  all  other 
ministers  (it  is  believed)  has  adopted  the  black  dress  which  no 
layman  would  think  of  using  except  as  an  evening  costume. 
The  clergy  of  the  Church  of  England  have  either  adopted 
the  white  surplice,  once  the  common  frock,  drawn,  as  it  has 
been  seen,  over  the  fur  of  our  skin-clad  ancestors,  or  else 
have,  in  a  few  instances,  retained  or  restored  the  shreds  and 
patches  of  the  clothes  worn  by  Roman  nobles  and  laborers. 
The  Roman  clergy  have  done  the  same,  but  in  a  more  elabo- 
rate form. 

In  all,  the  process  has  been  alike.  First  the  early  Christians, 
not  the  clergy  only  but  the  laity  as  well,  when  they  came  to 
their  public  assemblies,  wore  indeed  their  ordinary  clothes,  but 

*  Marriott,  p.  Ivii. 


144  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

took  care  that  they  should  be  clean.  The  Pelagians,*  and  the 
more  ascetic  clergy,  insisted  on  coming  in  rags,  but  this  was 
contrary  to  the  more  moderate  and  more  general  sentiment. 

Next,  it  was  natural  that  the  colors  and  fonns  chosen  for 
their  Sunday  clothes  should  be  of  a  more  grave  and  sober  tint, 
as  that  of  the  Quakers  in  Charles  the  Second's  time.  "As 
there  is  a  garb  proper  for  soldiers,  sailors,  and  magistrates, j- 
so,"  says  Clement  of  Alexandria,  "  there  is  a  garb  befitting  the 
sobriety  of  Christians." 

Then  came  the  process  which  belongs  to  all  society  in  every 
age  and  which  we  see  actually  going  on  before  our  eyes — 
namely,  that  what  in  ordinary  life  is  liable  to  the  rapid  transi- 
tions of  fashion,  in  ceiiain  classes  becomes  fixed  at  a  particular 
moment ;  and  then — though  again  in  its  turn  undergoing  ncAv 
changes  of  fashion,  yet  retains  something  of  its  old  form  or 
name ;  and  finally  engenders  in  fanciful  minds  fanciful  reflec- 
tions as  far  as  possible  removed  from  the  original  meaning  of 
these  garments. 

Take  for  example  the  wigs  of  Bishops.  First,  there  was  the 
long  flowing  hair  of  the  Cavaliers.  Then  when  this  Avas  cut 
short  came  the  long  flowing  wigs  in  their  places.  Then  these 
were  dropped  except  by  the  learned  professions.  Then  they 
were  dropped  b}^  the  lawyers  except  in  court.  Then  the  clergy 
laid  them  aside,  with  the  exception  of  the  bishops.  Then  the 
bishops  laid  them  aside  with  the  exception  of  the  archbishops. 
Then  the  last  archbishop  laid  his  wig  aside  except  on  official 
occasions.  And  now  even  the  archbishop  has  dropped  it. 
But  it  is  easy  to  see  that,  had  it  been  retained,  it  might 
have  passed  like  the  pall  into  the  mystic  symbol  of  the 
archiepiscopate,  patriarchate,  or  we  know  not  what.  Bands 
again  sprang  from  the  broad  \  white  collars,  which  fell  over  the 
shoulders  of  the  higher  and  middle  classes — whether  Cavalier 
or  Puritan — Cromwell  and  Bunyan,  no  less  than  Clarendon  and 
Hammond.  Then  these  were  confined  to  the  clergy;  then 
reduced  to  a  single  white  plait;  then  divided  into  two  parts; 
then  symbolized  to  mean  the  two  tables  of  the  law,  the  two 
sacraments,  or  the  cloven  tongues ;  then,  from  a  supposed  con- 


*  Thomassin,  i.  2.  '13.  t  Marriott,  p.  xxv. 

X  111  the  Lutht-rau  Church  the  same  fate  has  befallen  the  ruff. 


ECCLESIASTICAL    VESTMENTS.  I45 

nection  with  Puritanism,  or  from  a  sense  of  inconvenience, 
ceased  to  be  worn,  or  worn  only  by  the  more  old-fashioned  of 
the  clergy;  so  as  to  be  regarded  by  the  younger  generation  as 
a  symbol  of  Puritan  custom  or  doctrine.  Just  so,  and  with  as 
much  reason,  did  the  surplice  in  the  Middle  Ages,  from  its 
position  as  a  frock  or  pinafore  over  the  fur  coat,  come  to  be 
regarded  as  an  emblem  of  imputed  righteousness  over  the  skins 
in  which  were  clothed  our  first  parents ;  just  so  did  the  turban 
or  niitra  when  divided  by  its  crease  come  to  be  regarded  as 
the  cloven  tongue ;  just  so  did  the  handkerchief  with  which 
the  Roman  gentry  wiped  their  faces  come  to  be  regarded  in 
the  fifth  century  as  wings  of  angels,  and  in  the  seventh  as  the 
yoke  of  Christian  life.  Just  so  have  the  ponchos  and  water- 
proofs of  the  Roman  peasants  and  laborers  come  in  the  nine- 
teenth century  to  be  regarded  as  emblems  of  Sacrifice,  Priest- 
hood, Real  Presence,  communion  with  the  universal  Church, 
Christian  or  ecclesiastical  \drtues. 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  answer  detailed  objections  to  a 
statement  of  which  the  general  truth  is  acknowledged  by  all 
the  chief  authorities  on  the  subject,  as  well  as  confirmed  by 
the  general  analogy  of  the  origin  of  the  Christian  usages.  In 
fact,  the  Roman  Church  has  at  times  even  gloried  in  the  secular 
origin  of  its  sacred  vestments,  and  based  their  adoption  on  the 
grant  by  Constantine  (in  his  forged  donation)  of  his  own 
imperial  garments  to  the  Pope,  and  has  then  added  that  they 
were  occasionally  transferred  back  to  the  secular  princes, — as 
when  Alexander  II.  granted  to  the  Duke  of  Bohemia  the  use 
of  the  mitre,  and  Alexander  III.  to  the  Doge  of  Venice  the 
use  of  an  umbrella  like  his  own, — and  that  the  Emperor  wore 
the  same  pall  or  mantle  that  was  used  by  Popes  in  the  most 
sacred  offices.* 

The  only  indications  adduced  to  the  contrarj'  are : 
1.  The  golden  plate  said  to  have  been  worn  by  St.  John  and 
St.  James.  But  even  if  Bishop  Lightfoot  had  not  amply  f 
proved  that  this  is  a  mere  metaphor,  it  would  not  avail,  for  a 
golden  plate  has  never  been  adopted  as  part  of  the  ecclesiasti- 
cal ornaments. 


*  Thomassin,  i.  9,  c.  45,  s.  52. 

t  Commentary  on  the  Epistle  to  the  Philippians,  p.  352. 

7 


J  46  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

2.  The  mention  in  the  Clementine  Liturgy  that  the  bishop 
at  a  certain  moment  of  the  service  puts  on  a  white  *  garment. 
But  this  is  an  exception  which  proves  the  rule.  Of  all  the 
hturgies,  this  is  the  only  one  which  has  any  indication  of  dress 
— and  the  Clementine  Liturgy  is  so  saturated  with  interpola- 
tions of  all  kinds,  some  even  heretical,  that  its  text  cannot  be 
seriously  used  as  an  authentic  witness, 

3.  Jerome,  in  his  Commentary  on  Ezekiel  (c.  44),  says  that 
"  Divine  religion  has  one  habit  in  service,  another  in  use  in 
common  life."  But  he  is  speaking  here  of  the  trousers  of  the 
Jewish  priests;  and  in  all  the  allegorical  interpretations  he 
gives  here,  or  in  his  letter  to  Fabiola,  of  the  garments  of  the 
Jewish  priesthood,  there  is  not  one  which  points  to  the  sacer- 
dotal character  of  the  Christian  ministry ;  and  in  this  very 
passage,  shortly  before,  he  says,  "  Thus  we  learn  that  we  ought 
not  to  enter  the  Holy  of  Holies  with  any  sort  of  every-day 
clothing  soiled  from  the  use  of  life,  but  handle  the  Lord's 
sacraments  with  a  clean  conscience  and  clean  clothes.'"'  It  is 
evident  that,  so  far  as  this  is  not  metaphorical,  it  means  only 
that  (according  to  the  description  of  the  first  stage  of  the 
process  of  adaptation  given  above)  the  clothes  of  Christians  in 
public  worship  should  not  be  dirty,  but  clean. 

There  may  possibly  be  other  apparent  exceptions,  as,  no 
doubt,  in  later  Roman  writers  there  are  contradictory  state- 
ments. But  the  general  current  of  practice  and  opinion  dur- 
ing the  early  ages  is  that  which  is  well  summed  up  by  the 
Jesuit  Sirmondus,f  as  by  our  own  Bingham  :  "  The  color  and 
form  of  dress  was  in  the  beginning  the  same  for  ecclesiastics 
and  laymen." 

Should  there  be  any  counter-statements  or  counter-facts 
scattered  here  and  there  through  the  ancient  customs  or  liter- 
ature of  the  Latin  Church,  it  is  no  more  than  is  to  be  expected 
from  the  heterogeneous  forms  which  any  large  historical  sys- 
tem embraces  within  itself. 

IV.  We  now  proceed  to  the  practical  remarks  which  this 
part  suggests. 

1.  First,  it  is  not  useless  to  show  that  the  significance  of 

*  Aa/Lnfiav  ecrd^a,  as  in  the  next  quotation  from  Jerome,  probably  means 
"clean,  white  gown." 
t  See  Marriott,  p.  43;  Thomassin,  1.  2,  43. 


ECCLESIASTICAL   VESTMENTS.  \4ri 

these  dresses  as  alleged,  both  in  attack  and  defence,  rests  on 
no  historical  foundation.  It  may  be  said,  perhaps,  Their  insig- 
that  the  fact  of  the  secular  origin  of  these  garments  niflcance. 
does  not  exclude  their  importance  when,  in  after-times,  symbol- 
ical significations  were  attached  to  them  ;  and  possibly  it  may  be 
urged  that  the  most  unquestionably  sacerdotal  symbols  were,  in 
the  first  instance,  drawn  from  homelier  objects.  But  there  is 
this  wide  distinction  between  the  origin  of  the  Christian  eccle- 
siastical vestments  and  of  those  of  other  religions.  The  Christian 
dress,  as  we  have  indicated,  was  intended,  in  its  origin,  not  to 
separate  the  minister  from  the  people,  but  to  make  him,  in 
outward  show  and  appearance,  exactly  the  same.  The  Jewish 
high-priest  and  the  priestly  tribe  were,  on  the  contrary,  as  in 
other  matters,  so  in  their  dress,  from  the  very  first  intended  to 
be  thereby  separated,  at  least  in  their  public  ministrations,  as 
far  as  possible  from  the  rest  of  the  community.  It  would 
have  been  perfectly  easy,  had  the  Christian  Church  of  the  first 
and  second  centuries  been  possessed  with  the  idea  of  carrying 
on  the  Jewish  priesthood,  to  have  adopted  either  the  very 
dress  worn  by  the  Jewish  priests,  or  some  other  dress  equally 
distinctive.  The  Jewish  priest  was  distinguished  from  his 
countrymen  by  his  bare  feet,  by  his  trousers,  by  his  white 
linen  robe,  by  his  sash  thirty -two  yards  long,*  by  his  fillet,  by 
his  tippet  or  ephod ;  the  high-priest  by  his  breastplate,  by  his 
bells,  and  by  his  pomegranates;  and  these  vestments  were 
regarded  as  so  indispensable  to  his  office  that  the  high-priest- 
hood was  at  last  actually  conveyed  from  predecessor  to  suc- 
cessor by  the  act  of  handing  them  on  to  each  high-priest;  the 
possession  of  the  vestments,  in  fact,  conferred  the  office  itself. 
Nothing  whatever  of  the  kind  was  done,  or,  we  may  add,  even 
in  the  wildest  flight  of  modern  superstition  has  been  done, 
with  the  vestments  of  the  Christian  clergy.  Neither  trousers,f 
nor  breastplate,  nor  bells,  nor  pomegranates,  nor  long  winding 
sash,  nor  naked  feet,  have  ever  been  regarded,  and  certainly 
were  not  in  the  early  ages  regarded,  as  part  of  the  dress  or 
undress  of  the  Christian  minister ;  nor  was  the  act  of  ordina- 
tion ever  performed  by  the  transfer  of  chasuble,  or  lawn  sleeves, 

*  Bahr's  Symholik.  p.  68; 

t  In  Jerome's  letter  to  Fabiola  {Kp.  64),  containing  an  elaborate  exposition 
of  the  dresses  of  the  Jewish  priests,  there  is  not  a  word  to  indicate  that  they 
were  adopted  by  the  Christian  clergy. 


148  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

or  cassock.  The  whole  stress  of  the  theological  argument  in 
favor  of  the  importance  of  these  dresses  depends  on  proving 
that  such  as  they  may  by  any  one  now  be  supposed  to  be,  in 
intention  and  in  significance,  such  they  were  in  the  early 
ages.  It  is  alleged  that,  by  parting  with  them,  we  part  with  a 
primitive  doctrine  of  the  Church.  But,  if  the  facts  which  we 
have  stated  are  correct,  the  connection  between  these  dresses  and 
the  sacerdotal  theories  with  which  they  have  been  entangled  is  cut 
off  at  the  very  root.  Unless  it  can  be  shown  that  they  were  sacer- 
dotal in  the  second  or  third  centuries,  it  is  wholly  irrelevant  to 
allege  that  they  became  sacerdotal  in  the  thirteenth  or  the  nine- 
teenth centuries.  Whatever  sacerdotal,  or  symbolical,  or  sacra- 
mental associations  have  been  attached  to  them  may  be  mediaeval, 
but  certainly  are  not  primitive;  and  those  who  wish  to  preserve 
the  substance  of  the  primitive  usage  should  officiate,  not  in  the 
dresses  which  are  at  present  worn  in  Roman,  Anglican,  and 
Non- conformist  Churches,  but  in  the  every-day  dress  of  com- 
mon life — in  overcoats,  or  smock-frocks,  or  shirt-sleeves, 
according  as  they  belonged  to  the  higher  or  inferior  grade  of 
the  Christian  ministry.  We  are  not  arguing  in  favor  of  such 
a  return  to  primitive  usage.  In  this,  as  in  a  thousand  other 
cases,  it  is  the  depth  of  retrograde  absurdity  to  suppose  that 
we  are  to  throw  off  the  garb,  or  the  institutions,  or  the 
language  of  civilization,  in  order  to  accommodate  ourselves  to 
the  literal  platform  of  the  early  ages.  Matthew  Arnold  well 
observes  that  to  declaim  against  bishops  in  the  House  of  Lords, 
or  against  the  Privy  Council,  because  St.  Paul  knew  nothing 
of  them,  is  just  as  unreasonable  as  it  would  be  to  declaim 
against  the  wearing  of  braces,  because  St.  Paul  wore  no  braces. 
And  so,  on  the  other  hand,  to  insist  on  extinguishing  the  black 
coat  or  the  black  gown  of  the  Non-conformist  minister,  or  the 
white  surplice  of  the  Anglican  minister,  or  the  red  stockings 
of  the  Roman  cardinal,  because  they  are  not  the  ordinary 
every-day  dress  which  is  now  worn,  or  would  have  been 
worn  in  early  times,  would  be  as  superstitious  as  the  vul- 
gar objection  to  Church  establishments.  There  may  be  reasons 
against  ecclesiastical  vestments  of  all  kinds.  But  the  fact  of 
their  being  modern  is  not  of  itself  against  them,  unless  we 
insist  on  making  them  essential  as  containing  ideas  which 
they  do  not,  and  never  were  intended  to,  symboUze. 


ECCLESIASTICAL    VESTMENTS.  149 

2,  But  secondly,  it  may  be  said,  partly  by  the  opponents 
and  partly  by  tbe  advocates  of  these  vestments,  that,  whatever 
may  be  the  history  of  their  origin,  all  that  we  have  Their  con- 
practically  now  to  consider  is  the  purpose  to  which  ti'asts. 
they  are  at  present  applied.  It  was  maintained  not  long  ago  by 
a  distinguished  political  leader,  that  to  treat  these  badges  with 
indifference  would  be  no  less  absurd  than  to  treat  the  Red 
Flag  as  merely  a  piece  of  bunting,  whereas  it  really  represents 
anarchy  and  revolution  and  must  be  dealt  with  accordingly. 
We  venture  to  think  that  this  very  illustration  furnishes  an 
answer  to  the  allegations  of  importance  on  the  one  side  or  the 
other  brought  to  bear  upon  this  question.  No  doubt  with  the 
uneducated  and  ill-educated  of  all  classes  a  superficial  badge  or 
color  often  outweighs  every  other  consideration.  It  is  within 
the  memory  of  living  persons  in  Norfolk,  where  party  feeling 
ran  higher  than  in  the  rest  of  England,  that  the  blue  or 
orange  color  of  the  electioneering  flags  was  the  one  single 
notion  which  the  lower  classes  had  of  the  great  Whig  or  the 
great  Conservative  parties  for  whom  they  were  led  to  vote. 
An  illiterate  artisan  on  his  death-bed  would  say,  as  a  plea 
for  the  condonation  of  many  sins,  "  At  least  I  have  been  true 
to  ray  colors."  And  on  one  occasion,  when  in  a  country  town, 
by  some  accident,  the  blue  and  orange  colors  were  inter- 
changed, the  whole  mass  of  the  voters  followed  the  color  to 
which  they  were  accustomed,  although  it  was  attached  to  the 
party  which  represented  the  exactly  opposite  principles.  We 
cannot  deny  that  in  dealing  with  popular  passion  and  prejudice 
on  this  as  on  other  matters,  it  may  be  necessary  to  concede  far 
more  than  either  correct  history  or  calm  reason  will  justify. 
But  it  may  be  worth  while  in  all  these  cases  to  show  how  in- 
significant and  Jiow  valueless  is  the  form.  Is  it  not  our  duty, 
in  the  first  instance,  to  represent,  at  least  to  ourselves  and  the 
more  educated,  the  real  state  of  the  case — to  be  fully  per- 
suaded that  these  things  are  of  themselves,  as  St.  Paul  says, 
absolutely  "  nothing " — even  if  immediately  afterwards,  in 
condescension  to  weak  brethren,  we  are  inclined,  as  he  was,  to 
go  a  long  way  either  in  avoiding  or  in  adopting  them  ?  Even 
in  that  very  instance  which  was  just  now  quoted  of  the  Red 
Flag,  on  an  occasion  when  its  adoption  might  have  led  to  the 
most  terrible  results  both  in  France  and  in  Europe,  when  on 


150  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

February  25,  1848,  a  raging  mob,  surging  round  the  steps  of 
the  Hotel  de  Ville  of  Paris,  demanded  that  this  crimson  ban- 
ner should  be  adopted  instead  of  the  tricolor,  that  calamity, 
as  it  certainly  would  have  been,  was  averted,  even  with  that 
savage  multitude,  by  the  eloquent  appeal  of  one  man  to  the 
indisputable  origin  of  its  first  appearance  in  the  history  of 
France.  "  The  Tricolor,"  said  Lamartine,  "  has  made  the  tour 
of  the  world  with  our  glories  and  our  victories ;  but  the  Red 
Flag  has  only  made  the  tour  of  the  Champ  de  Mars,  trailed  in 
mire  and  defiled  with  blood."  He  alluded,  of  course,  to  the 
fact  that  the  Red  Flag  was  originally  the  badge  of  martial  law, 
and  yet  more  to  the  first  distinct  occasion  of  its  adoption,  on 
that  dark  day — among  the  most  disgraceful  in  the  annals  of 
the  first  French  Revolution — which  witnessed  the  execution  of 
one  of  the  noblest  of  Frenchmen  under  the  insults  of  a  furious 
populace  who  waved  the  red  flag  before  him,  dragged  it  through 
the  mud,  and  drew  blood  with  it  from  his  venerable  face.  By 
that  calm  historical  allusion,  though  fully  appreciated  perhaps 
only  by  a  few,  Lamartine  was  able  to  disperse  pacifically  and 
reasonably  a  movement  which,  had  he  fired  at  the  flag  with 
shot  and  shell  as  a  symbol  of  anarchy,  would  probably  have 
deluged  Paris  with  blood.  If,  in  like  manner,  the  Comte  de 
Chambord  could  be  convinced  that  the  white  flag  represented 
in  its  origin,  not  legitimate  monarchy,  but  the  white  plume  of 
a  Huguenot  chief,  he  might  be  persuaded  to  abandon  that 
which,  as  it  would  seem,  no  force  of  arms  will  ever  enable  him 
to  relinquish,  or  the  country  to  adopt. 

In  all  such  cases  it  is  our  duty,  whether  as  opponents  or  up- 
holders of  these  forms,  to  see  things  as  they  really  are,  and 
not  to  adopt  the  passionate  and  ill-informed  expressions  of 
those  whom  we  ought  to  guide,  and  whose  guidance  we  ought 
to  be  the  last  to  accept. 

3.  Thirdly,  it  may  be  remarked  that  in  point  of  fact  it  is 
not  so  much  any  theory  concerning  these  dresses  which  arouses 
~,  ..  ,  popular  indignation,  as  the  circumstance  that  they 
and  foreign  are  unusiial,  startling,  and  therefore  offensive  ;  and 
'^"^'"'  also  that  they  are  regarded  as  borrowed  from  the 

Roman  Catholic  Church,  and  therefore  viewed  with  suspicion, 
not  unnaturally,  as  the  outward  signs  and  tokens  of  a  system 
which  is  believed  to  have  been  the  cause  of  infinite  mischief 


ECCLESIASTICAL    VESTMENTS.  151 

and  misery  to  England  three  hundred  years  ago,  and  to  Spain, 
Italy,  and  France  at  this  moment.  And  this  ground  of  indig- 
nation, apart  from  any  sacerdotal  or  sacrificial  associations,  is 
further  borne  out  by  the  fact  that  it  is  actually  the  ground  on 
which  these  particular  vestments  are  adopted  by  those  who 
wear  them.  We  are  not  aware  that  in  any  instance  there  has 
been  an  attempt  on  the  part  of  our  English  clergy,  either  to 
wear  what  they  may  imagine  to  have  been  actually  worn  in 
the  second  and  third  centuries,  or  to  wear  what  is  worn  in  the 
Greek,  the  Coptic,  or  the  Armenian  Church,  or  even  in  the 
time  of  Edward  VI.  in  England.  They  are  imported,  as  we 
may  see  by  newspaper  advertisements,  simply  from  the  maga- 
zines of  France  and  of  Belgium,  according  to  the  last  fashions 
of  Brussels  or  Paris.  They  represent,  therefore,  in  their  actual 
adoption,  merely  the  usages  of  these  foreign  modern  Churches, 
and  nothing  else.  Indeed,  we  may  say  they  are  copied  with 
almost  Chinese  exactness  of  imitation,  even  to  tlieir  rents  and 
patches.  An  instance  may  be  selected  which  does  not  belong 
at  present  to  the  disputed  category,  but  which  therefore  will 
the  better  illustrate  the  question, — the  modern  practice  of  cut- 
ting off  the  surplice  at  the  knees.  This,  assuredly  not  copied 
from  either  Jewish  or  primitive  ceremonial,  is  the  exact  copy 
of  the  surplice  of  the  modern  Roman  Church,  but  of  that  gar- 
ment under  peculiar  conditions.  It  has  been  said,  on  good 
anthority,  that  originally  tlie  Roman  surplice  reached  to  the 
feet,  bat  that  the  lower  part  was  of  lace;  then  that  the  lace, 
being  too  expensive,  was  cut  away,  and  so  left  the  surplice 
in  that  state,  of  which  this  economical  curtailment  has  been 
adopted  as  the  model  of  English  usage. 

We  do  not  say  that  this  peculiarity  is  calculated  to  render 
them  less  odious  to  popular  feeling ;  but  it  at  once  clears  away 
a  mass  of  useless  declamation,  either  for  or  against,  which  we 
find  in  speeches,  petitions,  and  pamphlets.  And  it  is  more 
important  to  notice  this,  because  the  dislike  to  untimely  in- 
novations or  foreign  costumes  rests  on  a  larger  basis  than 
concerns  the  particular  clothes  which  have  been  introduced 
during  the  last  ten  years.  A  surplice  adopted  suddenly  where 
a  gown  has  hitherto  been  worn  has  provoked  an  opposition 
quite  as  violent,  and  has  been  defended  with  a  tenacity  quite 
as  exaggerated,  as  has  been  shown  with  regard  to  the  more 


159  CERI8T1AN  INSTITUTIONS. 

fanciful  vestments  of  latter  days.  The  cope,  which,  according 
to  some  of  the  fine-drawn  distinctions,  both  of  enemies  and  of 
friends,  is  not  supposed  to  be  "  sacrificial,"  would  produce 
quite  as  much  consternation  in  a  rustic  parish,  or  even  in  a 
country  cathedral,  as  the  chasuble,  which  is  alleged  to  be 
"sacrificial."  It  is  the  foreign,  unusual,  defiant,  and,  if  so  be, 
illeo-al  introduction  of  these  things  which  constitutes  their  of- 
fence. 

V.  Taking  these  practical  principles  as  our  guide,  we  pro- 
ceed to  ask  what,  under  our  actual  circumstances,  is  the  best 
course  to  pursue  with  regard  to  these  usages, 

1.  First,  it  would  seem  to  be  the  duty  of  every  one  who  is 
a  voice  and  not  merely  an  echo  to  proclaim  their  absolute  in- 
Importance  difference  and  triviality,  when  compared  with  mat- 
ing"thelr'*iii-  ^^^^  ^^  serious  religion.  It  was  said  by  a  great 
difference,  divinc,  some  thirty  years  ago,  that  it  was  the  pecu- 
liar blot  of  factions  or  parties  in  the  Church  of  England  to 
have  fought,  as  for  matters  of  importance,  for  this  or  that 
particular  kind  of  dress.  The  remark  is  true.  Thrice  over 
has  the  English  Church  been  distracted  by  a  vestiarian  con- 
troversy— first,  at  the  Reformation,  when  Bishop  Hooper  re- 
fused to  wear  a  square  cap  because  God  had  made  heads  round ; 
secondly,  in  the  controversy  between  Laud  and  the  Puritans ; 
and,  thirdly,  in  our  own  time,  beginning  with  the  Exeter  riots 
of  1840,  and  continuing  even  now.  No  such  controversy  has 
ever  distracted  either  the  Church  of  Rome,  or  the  Church  of 
Luther,  or  the  Church  of  Calvin.  It  is  high  time  to  see 
whether  we  could  not  now,  once  and  forever,  dispel  the  idea 
that  the  Kingdom  of  God,  or  "  the  workshop  of  Satan,"  con- 
sists in  the  color  of  a  coat,  or  the  shape  of  a  cloak,  or  the  use 
of  a  handkerchief.  Viewed  merely  in  a  doctrinal  point  of 
view,  no  more  deadly  blow  could  be  struck  at  the  ceremonial, 
and  what  may  be  called  the  Etruscan  theory  of  religion,  than 
to  fill  the  atmosphere  with  the  sense  of  the  entire  insignificance 
of  dresses  or  postures.  To  speak  of  them  as  of  no  significance 
is  the  true  translation  of  the  great  maxim  of  the  Apostle, — 
"  Circumcision  availeth  nothing,  nor  uncircumcision.^^ 

2.  Secondly,  if  this  absolute  adiaphorism  could  be  made  to 
take  possession  of  the  popular  mind,  our  course  would  be  very 
much  cleared.     We  might  then  view  more  calmly  the  legal  as- 


ECCLESIASTICAL    VEST.VENTS  153 

pect  of  the  question,  as  depending  on  tlie  validity  and  the  mean- 
ing of  the  Ornaments'  Rubric.     This  ingenious  ob- 
scurity  is  a  singular  example,  cither  of  the  disin-  ments'  Ru- 
genuousness  or  of  the  negligence  with  which  the  ^"*^" 
Prayer  Book  was  reconstructed  during  the  passionate  period 
of  the  Restoration. 

But  supposing  that  it  should  be  decided  once  and  again  that 
the  rubric  forbids  the  use  of  these  vestments,  the  fact  of  their 
historical  insignificance  would  be  a  consolation  to  those  who, 
willing  to  obey  the  law,  would  thus  be  constrained  to  give  up 
what  the  usage  of  some  years  has  no  doubt  endeared  to  them. 
They  would  feel  then  that  they  were  not  surrendering  any 
principle,  but  merely  a  foreign  custom,  which  having  been  in- 
troduced, let  us  hope,  with  the  innocent  motive  of  beautifying 
public  worship,  they  abandoned  as  good  citizens  and  good 
Churchmen,  when  the  law  declared  against  it ;  and  that  in  so 
doing  they  were  parting  with  a  practice  which  had  no  other 
intrinsic  value  than  what  belongs  to  an  antiquarian  reminis- 
cence of  that  early  age  of  the  Church  when  there  was  no  dis- 
tinction between  clergy  and  laity,  between  common  and 
ecclesiastical  life,  and  that  the  only  historical  association  legiti- 
mately connected  with  it  was  the  most  anti-sacerdotal — the 
most  Protestant — that  Christian  antiquity  has  handed  down  to 
us. 

And  on  the  other  hand,  if  it  should  be  decided  that  the 
rubric  requires  these  vestments  to  be  worn,  then  again,  to  those 
who  have  hitherto  objected  to  them,  it  would  be  no  less  a  con- 
solation to  know  that  such  a  requirement  did  not  enforce  the 
use  of  anything  which  symbolized  a  doctrine  either  of  the 
Real  Presence  or  of  the  priesthood,  but  was  simply  the  last 
English,  or,  if  so  be,  the  last  Parisian  development  of  the  shirts 
and  coats  and  rugs  of  the  peasants  and  gentry  of  the  third  cen- 
tury. And  in  this  contingency,  two  considerations  occur 
which  might  mitigate  what  to  some  persons  would  appear  to 
be  a  serious  grievance.  The  first  is  that,  if  these  clothes  should 
be  declared  legal,  the  probability  is  that  the  interest  attaching 
to  them  would  almost  entirely  cease.  Half  of  the  excitement 
they  now  produce,  both  in  those  who  defend  and  those  who 
attack  them,  is  from  the  belief  that  they  are,  more  or  less, 
contrary  to  the  law.     Whatever  the  Supreme  Court  of  Appeal 


154  CHBI8TIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

takes  under  its  patronage  loses,  in  the  eyes  of  many  zealous 
clergy,  its  special  ecclesiastical  value.  When,  for  example, 
the  Credence  Table  was  legalized  and  shown  to  be  not  an  ap- 
pendage to  an  altar,  but  a  sideboard  on  which  the  dishes  were 
placed  in  order  to  be  tasted  before  being  set  on  the  table,  with  the 
view  of  seeing  whether  they  contained  poison,  that  part  of  the 
church  furniture  ceased  to  be  a  bone  of  contention.  Even  the 
cope  has  comparatively  lost  its  interest  since  it  was  commanded 
by  the  Privy  Council ;  just  as  it  jnay  be  fairly  doubted  whether 
the  significance  of  the  eastward  position  can  stand  the  shock 
given  when  it  is  found  that  one  of  the  solitary  witnesses  to  it 
in  the  past  generation  was  Bishop  Maltby,  the  Whig  of  Whigs, 
the  Protestant  of  Protestants,  the  recipient  of  the  famous 
Durham  letter.  There  is  a  story  of  a  distinguished  prelate 
now  deceased  which  may  serve  to  illustrate  the  probable 
action  of  the  law.  A  clergyman,  who  had  contended  in  his 
village  church  for  various  points  of  ceremonial,  at  last  ventured 
to  ask,  with  fear  and  trembling,  whether  *'  his  lordship  could 
allow  the  choristers  to  appear  in  surplices."  "  By  all  means," 
said  the  bishop,  "let  them  appear  in  surplices — it  will  help  to 
degrade  that  vestment,"  What  he  meant,  of  course,  was  that 
the  surplice  would  then  lose  its  peculiar  sacerdotal  significance  ; 
and  certainly  the  legalizing  of  any  dress  by  the  Protestant 
Legislature  of  England  would  immediately  place  such  dress 
on  a  footing  and  in  a  light  which  would  admit  of  no  miscon- 
ception as  to  what  was  intended  or  not  intended  by  it. 

And,  if  the  law  should  be  thus  pronounced,  it  would  then  in 
all  probability  become  a  matter  of  practical  consideration 
whether  an  ancient  and  difficult  rubric,  thus  suddenly  revived, 
could  be  expected  to  be  universally  put  in  force  throughout 
the  country,  and  would  thus  open  the  door  to  the  intervention 
of  that  principle  which  is  so  well  laid  down  in  Canon  Robert- 
son's book,  ''  How  shall  we  Conform  to  the  Liturgy  ?"  and  in 
the  succession  of  admirable  articles  in  the  "  Quarterly  Review" 
on  the  same  subject — namely,  that,  in  the  matter  of  these 
ancient  rubrical  observances,  common  sense  and  charity  and 
the  discretion  of  the  Ordinary  must  come  in  to  modify  and 
accommodate  rigid  rules  which  otherwise  would  produce  a 
deadlock  in  every  office  of  the  Church. 

In  point  of  fact,  the  cope,  even  since  the  recent  decision  in 


ECCLESIASTICAL    VESTMENTS.  165 

its  favor,  has,  except  in  a  few  special  cases,  been  hardly  worn 
at  all.  There  has  not  been  throughout  the  whole  Church  more 
than  three  or  four  instances  of  deference  to  this  reanimated 
ghost.  And  with  regard  to  a  much  larger  assortment  of 
clerical  vestments,  but  resting  on  the  same  authority  as  the 
cope, — namely,  the  Canons  of  1604, — it  may  be  safely  asserted 
that  not  one  clergyman  in  ten  thousand  ever  wears  or  thinks  of 
wearing  any  of  them.  Those  canons  command  every  clergy- 
man, in  walking  or  travelling,  to  appear  in  "  a  gown,  with  a 
standing  collar,"  or  in  "  a  tippet  of  silk  or  sarcenet,"  and  on 
no  account  to  wear  a  cloak  with  long  sleeves,  and  especially 
"not  to  wear  light-colored  stockings."  This  74th  Canon  is 
everywhere  disregarded,  and  though  it  contains  the  sensible 
remark  that  "  its  meaning  is  not  to  attribute  any  holiness  or 
special  worthiness  to  the  said  garments  "  (the  very  principle 
for  which  we  have  been  contending),  "but  for  decency, 
gravity,  and  order ;"  yet  it  is  not  less  precise  in  its  enactments 
than  the  58th  and  24th  Canons,  and  must  stand  or  fall  with 
them.  It  may  be  quoted  on  this  occasion  to  show  how  com- 
pletely and*  irrevocably  custom  has  been  allowed  to  override  a 
rule,  which  is  not,  indeed,  properly  speaking,  the  law  of  the 
Church  (being  only  a  canon  and  not  a  statute),  but  by  which, 
nevertheless,  it  has  been  often  attempted  in  these  matters  to 
provide  that  the  laws  of  the  Church  shall  be  regulated. 

And  this,  perhaps,  is  the  place  for  considering  the  question 
whether,  supposing  that  the  existing  law  fail  either  from 
obscurity  or  obsoleteness  to  control  our  present  uselessness 
usage,  it  is  desirable  to  pass  a  new  legislative  enact-  °*  rubrics, 
ment  which  shall  lay  dowa  precisely  what  clothes  are  or  are 
not  to  be  worn  by  the  clergy,  inside  or  outside  their  official 
ministrations.  The  same  principle  of  the  intrinsic  indifference 
of  these  things  which  we  have  laid  down  will  help  us  here  to 
a  right  solution.  If  we  can  once  resolve  that  the  question  of 
clerical,  as  of  all  dress,  is  simply  a  matter  of  custom  and 
fashion,  or,  as  the  74th  Canon  says,  of  "  decency,  gravity,  and 
order,"  then  we  may  safely  venture  to  say  that  to  enumerate 
any  catalogue  or  wardrobe  of  such  clothes  either  in  an  Act  of 
Parliament,  or  even  in  a  canon,  would  be  entirely  unworthy  of 
the  dignity  of  an  Act  of  the  Legislature  or  even  of  the  Con- 
vocations.    It  would  be  unworthy,  and  (unless  it  entered  into 


156  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

details  wliich  would  be  absolutely  ridiculous)  it  would  soon  be 
utterly  useless.  For  who  can  now  say  exactly  what  it  is 
which  constitutes  a  legal  cope  or  chasuble,  or  the  legal 
length  of  a  surplice,  or  "  guards,  and  welts,  and  cuts,"  or 
"  a  coif,  or  wrought  night-cap  ?"  And  the  total  failure  of 
the  canon  just  cited  proves  how  inevitably  such  rules  falls  into 
hopeless  desuetude  after  a  few  years.  Nor  would  such  enu- 
meration be  necessary.  One  advantage  of  the  deep  obscurity 
of  the  Ornaments'  Kubric  has  been  that  it  has  shown  us  how 
possible  it  is  for  a  Church  (except  in  occasional  excitements) 
to  exist  without  any  rule  at  all  on  the  subject.  Not  a  single 
garment  is  named  by  name  in  that  rubric,  nor  in  any  part  of 
the  Prayer  Book  from  beginning  to  end  ;  *  and  yet  on  the 
whole  a  comely  and  decent  order  has  been  observed  in  the 
English  Church,  only  with  such  change  as  the  silent  lapse  of 
time  necessarily  brings  with  it.  And  it  should  be  observed 
that  in  the  Irish  Church  before  its  recent  calamities,  in  the 
American  Episcopal  Church,  and  in  the  Established  Church  of 
Scotland,  not  even  the  shadow  of  the  Ornaments'  Rubric  ex- 
ists, nor  anything  analogous  to  it.  Custom,  and  custom  alone, 
has  provided  the  white  gown,  the  black  gown,  the  blue  gown, 
as  the  case  may  be.  To  this  easy  yoke,  and  to  this  safe  guide 
of  custom  and  common  sense,  we  also  might  safely  commit 
ourselves. 

3.  This  leads  us  to  another  obvious  conclusion.  If  there  be 
no  intrinsic  value  in  these  vestments,  then,  whether  the  law 
_,  ..  . .  forbids  them  or  enforces  them,  the  same  duty  is  in- 
troducing cumbent  on  all  those  who  regard  the  substance  of 
vestments.  leJigion  above  its  forms,  namely,  that  on  no  ac- 
count should  these  garbs,  whether  legal  or  illegal,  be  intro- 
duced into  churches  or  parishes  where  they  give  offence  to  the 
parish  or  the  congregation.  The  more  any  clergyman  can 
appreciate  the  absolute  indifference  of  such  things  in  them- 
selves, the  more  will  he  feel  himself  compelled  to  withdraw 
them  the  moment  he  finds  that  they  produce  the  opposite 
effect  to  that  which  he  intended  them  to  have.  On  the  neces- 
sity of  such  a  restriction,  it  is  a  satisfaction  to  believe  that 

*  The  only  exception  is  not  in  the  Prayer  Book  itself,  but  in  the  single  oflflce 
of  the  Oonseci-ation  of  a  Rishoj),  and  in  tnat  there  is  no  mention  of  lawn  sleeves 
or  chimere,  but  only  of  the  "  rochet." 


ECGLEStASTlOAL    VESTMENTS.  157 

many  even  of  those  whose  opinions  rather  incline  them  to 
these  peculiar  usages,  would  more  or  less  concur.  Quarrels 
produced  in  parishes  by  such  trivial  causes  ought  to  be  stifled 
instantly  and  at  once.  The  game,  however  delightful,  of 
maintaining  these  vestments,  is  not  worth  the  burning  the  can- 
dle of  discord  even  for  a  single  moment  in  a  single  parish. 
And,  on  the  other  hand,  as  regards  those  congregations,  where 
no  offence  is  given,  it  seems  to  be  "  straining  at  a  gnat  and 
swallowing  a  camel,"  whilst  we  freely  allow  (and  no  one  is  dis- 
posed to  curtail  the  legal  liberty)  the  preaching  and  practising 
of  the  most  extravagant — the  most  uncharitable — the  most 
senseless  doctrines,  on  whatever  side,  to  stumble  at  permitting 
a  few  congregations  here  and  there  to  indulge  themselves  in 
the  pleasure  of  a  few  colors  and  a  few  shapes  to  which  we 
know  with  absolute  certainty  that  no  religious  significance  is 
intrinsically  attached ;  and  of  which  any  significance,  that 
may  be  imagined  to  be  attached  to  them  by  those  who  use 
them,  can  be  equally  or  better  expressed  by  garments  of  quite 
another  make,  and  by  ceremonies  of  quite  another  kind. 

If  we  are  really  desirous  of  resisting  the  malady  of  reac- 
tionary hierarchical  sentiment,  let  us  grapple  not  with  these 
superficial  and  ambiguous  symptoms,  but  with  the  disease 
itself.  The  refusal  to  acknowledge  State  interference  with 
Church  affairs,  whether  on  the  part  of  Roman  Ultramontanes, 
Scottish  Free  Churchmen,  or  English  Liberationists ;  the 
exciting  speeches  of  so-called  Liberal  candidates  to  miscalled 
Liberal  constituents  on  behalf  of  what  they  choose  to  call 
spiritual  independence ;  the  attempts  from  time  to  time  by 
legal  prosecution,  or  angry  declamation,  to  stifle  free  critical 
inquiry  in  the  Church  of  England;  the  refusal  to  acknowl- 
edge the  pastoral  character  of  our  Wesleyan  or  Nonconform- 
ing brethren  ;  the  tendency  to  encourage  a  material  rather  than 
a  moral  and  spiritual  view  of  Christian  ordinances;  the  reading 
of  the  services  of  the  Church  inaudibly  and  unintelligibly,  in 
imitation  of  a  Church  which  employs  a  dead  language, — all 
these  endeavors,  conducted  with  however  conscientious  a 
desire  to  do  good,  and  however  justified  by  certain  elements 
in  the  Church  of  England,  or  in  human  nature — are  more 
hostile  to  the  true  spirit  of  the  Reformation  than  any  evanes- 
cent fashions  of  clerical  costume,  which  perish  with  the  using. 


158  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTION. 

Even  to  the  most  extreme  Puritan  and  to  tlie  most  extreme 
Calvinist,  we  venture  to  quote,  in  justification  of  an  excep- 
tional toleration  in  these  trivial  matters,  the  saying  of  the 
great  John  Calvin  himself,  "They  are  tolerabihs  ineptice .'''' 

4.  Finally,  it  would  be  a  clear  gain  to  the  interests  of  prac- 
tical, moral,  and  spiritual  religion,  if  by  granting  all  feasible 
Attention  to  toleration  to  these  innocent  archaisms  in  a  few 
reafhiiport-  ^ccentric  places,  the  majority  of  Churchmen  could 
ance.  be  left  free  to  pursue  the  improvements  which  the 

Church  and  nation  so  urgently  need,  and  which  have  hitherto 
been  defeated  by  the  disproportionate  and  inordinate  attention 
devoted  both  by  friends  and  enemies  to  this  insignificant 
point.  What  is  really  wanted,  both  for  the  good  of  the 
Church  and  as  the  best  corrective  to  the  superstitious  and 
materializing  tendency  which  many  of  us  deplore,  is  not  an 
attempt  to  restrain  particular  external  usages,  except,  as  before 
remarked,  when  they  give  offence  to  the  parishioners ;  but, 
regardless  of  any  threats,  to  aim  at  such  improvements  as 
would  be  desirable,  even  if  there  were  not  a  single  Ritualist  in 
existence;  to  develop  the  Protestant  elements  of  the  Church, 
which  are  stunted  and  dwarfed  from  the  fear  of  offending 
those  who,  whilst  they  demand  for  themselves  a  liberty  which 
liberal  Churchmen  have  always  endeavored  to  gain  for  them, 
have  hitherto  too  often  refused  to  concede  the  slightest  liberty 
to  others. 

The  real  evils  of  this  tendency,  whether  in  the  English  or  in 
the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  which  threatens  to  swallow  up 
the  larger,  freer,  more  reasonable  spirit  which  existed  in  both 
Churches  fifty  yeai's  ago,  are  obvious.  The  encouragement  of 
a  morbid  dependence  on  the  priesthood  ;  a  vehement  antago- 
nism to  the  law  ;  excessive  value  attached  to  the  technical  forms 
of  theology  and  ritual ;  a  revival  of  a  scholastic  phraseology 
which  has  lost  its  meaning;  a  passion  for  bitter  controversy 
and  for  exaggeration  of  differences, — all  these  evils  are  for  the 
most  part  beyond  the  reach  of  legal  or  ecclesiastical  tribunals, 
and  can  only  be  met,  as  they  can  be  fully  met,  first  by  fearless 
and  dispassionate  argument,  but  secondly  and  chiefly  by  the 
encouragement  of  a  heallhior  tone  in  the  public  mind  and 
clerical  opinion,  as  at  once  a  corrective  and  a  counterpoise. 
What  is  needed  is  not  to  exterminate,  but  to  act  independently 


i 


ECCLESIASTICAL    VESTMENTS.  159 

of,  the  party  whicli  have  so  often  obstructed  improvement  by 
mere  clamor  and  menace.     The   controversy  concerning  the 
lesser  points  of  ceremonial  has  too  much  diverted  the  public 
attention  from  the  substance  to  the  accidents.     The  adherents 
of  these  vestments  count  amongst  their  ranks  the  wise  and  the 
foolish,  the  serious  and  tlie  frivolous.     Let  them,  in  their  own 
special  localities,  when  they  do  not  impose  their  own  fancies 
upon   unwilling  listeners  or  spectators,  by  these  colors    and 
forms,  do  their  best  and  their  worst.     Let  them  add,  if  so  be, 
the   peacock's    feathers  which  the  Pope  borrowed  from  the 
Kings  of  Persia,  or  the  scarlet  shoes  which  he  took  from  the 
Roman    Emperors.     Let    them    freely   have,  if    the    law  al- 
lows it,  the    liberty  of   facing    to    any  point    of  the  com- 
pass they  desire — with  Mussulmans  to  the  east,  with  the  Pope 
to  the  west,  with  Hindoos  to  the  north,  or  with  old-fashioned 
Anglicans  to  the  south.     This  is  no  more  than  is  deserved  by 
the  zeal  of  some ;    it  is  no  more  than  may  be  safely  conceded 
to  the  scruples  of  all  who  can  be  indulged  without  vexing  the 
consciences  of  others.     But  then  let  those  also  who  take  another 
view  of  the  main  attractions  of  religion  be  permitted  to  enjoy 
•  the  liberty  which,  till  thirty  years  ago,  Avas  freely  permitted. 
Let  the  rules  which,  if  rendered  inflexible,  cripple  the  energies 
of  the  Church  and  mar  its   usefulness  be  relaxed  by  some 
machinery  such  as  was  in  use  in  former  times,  before  the 
modern  creation  of  the  almost  insuperable  obstructions  of  the 
majorities  of  the  four  Houses  of  Convocation.     Let  each  Bish- 
op or  Ordinary  have  the   legal  power,  subject  to  any  checks 
which  Parliament  will  impose,  of  sanctioning  what  is  almost 
universally  allowed  to  pass  unchallenged.     Let  us  endeavor  to 
abate  those  prolongations  and  repetitions  which  have  made  our 
services,  contrary  to  the  intention  of  their  framers,  a  by-word 
at  home  and  abroad.     Let  us  endeavor  to  secure  that  there 
shall  be  the  option  of  omitting  the  questionable  though  inter- 
esting document  whose  most  characteristic  passages  one  of  the 
two  Convocations  has  virtually  abjured.     Let  us  permit,  openly 
or  tacitly,  the  modifications  in  the  rubrics  of  the  Baptismal, 
the  Marriage,  the  Commination,  and  the  Ordination  Serxiccs, 
which    ought   to    be   an  offence  to   none,   and  would  be  an 
immense  relief  to  many.     Let  us  seek  the  means  of  enabling 
the  congregations  of  the  National  Church  to  hear,  not  merely. 


160  CSBI8TIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

as  at  present,  the  lectures,  but  the  sermons  of  preachers 
second  to  none  in  our  own  Church,  though  at  present  not  of 
it.  Let  us  be  firmly  persuaded  that  error  is  most  easily 
eradicated  by  establishing  truth,  and  darkness  most  perma- 
nently displayed  by  diffusing  light;  and  then  whilst  the  best 
parts  of  the  High  Church  party  will  be  preserved  to  the  Church 
by  their  own  intrinsic  excellence,  the  worst  parts  will  be  put 
down,  not  by  the  irritating  and  often  futile  process  of  repres- 
sion, but  by  the  pacific  and  far  more  effectual  process  of 
enforcing  the  opposite  truths,  of  creating  in  the  Church  a 
wholesome  atmosphere  of  manly,  generous  feeling,  in  which  all 
that  is  temporary,  acrid,  and  trivial  will  fade  away,  and  all  that 
is  eternal,  reasonable,  and  majestic  will  flourish  and  abound. 


i 


TEE  BASILICA.  161 


CHAPTER   IX. 

THE    BASILICA. 

What  was  the  original  idea  which  the  Christians  of  the  first 
centuries  conceived  of  a  place  of  worship  ?  What  was  the 
model  which  they  chose  for  themselves  when,  on  emerging 
from  the  Catacombs,  they  looked  round  upon  the  existing 
edifices  of  the  civilized  world? 

For  nearly  two  hundred  years,  set  places  of  worship  had  no 
existence  at  all.  In  the  third  century,  notices  of  them  became 
more  frequent,  but  still  in  such  ambiguous  terms  that  it  is 
difiicult  to  ascertain  how  far  the  building  or  how  far  the 
congregation  is  the  prominent  idea  in  the  writer's  mind  ;  and 
it  is  not,  therefore,  till  the  fourth  century,  when  they  became 
so  general  as  to  acquire  a  fixed  form  and  name,  that  our 
inquiry  properly  begins. 

Of  the  public  edifices  of  the  heathen  world,  there  were 
three  which  lent  themselves  to  the  Christian  use.  One  was 
the  circular  tomb.  This  was  seen  in  the  various  forms  of 
memorial  churches  which  from  the  Church  of  the  Holy  Sep- 
ulchre spread  throughout  the  Empire.  But  this  was  excep- 
tional. Another  was  the  Temple.  Though  occasionally  adopt- 
ed by  the  Eastern  Emperors,*  and  in  some  few  instances, 
as  the  Pantheon,  at  Rome  itself,  it  was  never  incorporated 
into  the  institutions  of  Western  Christendom.  It  was  not 
only  that  all  its  associations,  both  of  name  and  place,  jarred 
with  the  most  cherished  notions  of  Christian  purity  and  holi- 
ness, but  also  that  the  very  construction  of  the  edifice  was 
wholly  incompatible  with  the  new  idea  of  worship,  which 
Christianity  had  brought  into  the  world.  The  Temple  of  Isis 
at  Pompeii  (to  take  the  most  complete  specimen  now  extant 
of  a  heathen  temple  at  the  time  of  the  Christian  era)  at  oace 


*  Bingham,  viii.  2, 4.    The  Egyptian  temples  were  many  of  them  so  used ;  as 
at  Athens  the  Parthenon  and  the  Temple  of  Theseus. 


162  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

exhibits  the  impossibility  of  amalgamating  elements  so  hetero- 
geneous. It  was  exactly  in  accordance  with  the  genius  of 
heathenism,  that  the  priest  should  minister  in  the  presence  of 
the  God,  withdrawn  from  view  in  the  little  cell  or  temple  that 
rose  in  the  centre  of  the  consecrated  area ;  but  how  should 
the  president  of  the  Christian  assembly  be  concealed  from  the 
vast  concourse  in  whose  name  he  acted,  and  who,  as  with  the 
voice  of  many  waters,  were  to  reply  "  Amen  "  to  his  giving  of 
thanks?  It  was  most  congenial  to  the  feeling  of  Pagan  wor- 
shippers that  they  should  drop  in,  one  by  one,  or  in  separate 
groups,  to  present  their  individual  prayers  or  offerings  to  their 
chosen  divinity  ;  but  how  was  a  Christian  congregation,  which, 
by  its  very  name  of  ecclesia,  recalled  the  image  of  those  tumul- 
tuous crowds  which  had  thronged  the  Pnyx  or  Forum  in  the 
days  of  the  Athenian  or  Roman  Commonwealth,  to  be  brought 
within  the  narrow  limits  of  the  actual  edifice  which  was  sup- 
posed to  be  the  dwelling  of  the  God  ?  Even  the  Temple  of 
Jerusalem  itself,  pure  as  it  was  from  the  recollections  which 
invested  the  shrines  of  the  heathen  deities,  yet  from  its  dark- 
ness, its  narrowness,  and  the  inaccessibility  of  its  innermost 
cell,  was  obviously  inadequate  to  become  the  visible  home  of 
a  religion  to  which  the  barriers  of  Judaism  were  hardly  less 
uncongenial  than  those  of  Paganism  itself.  A  temple,  wheth- 
er heathen  or  Jewish,  could  never  be  the  model  of  a  purely 
Christian  edifice.  The  very  name  itself  had  now,  in  Chris- 
tian phraseology,  passed  into  a  higher  sphere;  and  how- 
ever much  long  use  may  have  habituated  us  to  the  application 
of  the  word  to  material  buildings,  we  can  well  understand  how 
instinctively  an  earlier  age  would  shrink  from  any  lower 
meaning  than  the  moral  and  spiritual  sense  attached  to  it  in 
those  Apostolical  Writings  which  had  taught  the  world  that 
the  true  temple  of  God  was  in  the  hearts  and  consciences  of 
men.  And  therefore,  in  the  words  of  Bingham,  "  for  the  first 
three  ages  the  name  is  scarce  ever "  (he  might  have  said 
never)  "  applied  to  Christian  places  of  worship  ;"  and  though 
instances  of  it  are  to  be  found  in  the  rhetorical  language  of 
the  fourth,  yet  it  never  obtained  a  hold  on  the  ordinary 
language  of  Christendom.  The  use  of  the  word  in  Roman 
Catholic  countries  for  Protestant  churches  is  probably  dictated 
Vy  the  desire  to  represent  the  Protestant  service  as  heathen. 


i 


THE  BASILICA.  163 

What,  tlien,  was  the  ancient  heathen  structure,  whose  title 
lias  thus  acquired  a  celebrity  so  far  beyond  its  original  inten- 
tion ?  It  is  the  especial  offspring  and  symbol  of 
Western  civilization ; — Greek  in  its  origin,  Roman 
in  its  progress,  Christian  in  its  ultimate  development,  the  word 
is  coextensive  with  the  range  of  the  European  family.  In  the 
earliest  form  under  which  we  can  catch  any  trace  ^    ^ 

Its  roi*To 

of  it,  it  stands  in  the  dim  antiquity  of  the  Homeric 
age — at  the  point  where  the  first  beginnings  of  Grecian  civili- 
zation melt  away  into  the  more  primitive  forms  of  Oriental 
society.  It  is  the  gateway  of  the  Royal  Palace,  in  which  the 
ancient  Kings,  Agamemnon  at  Mycenae,  David  at  Jerusalem, 
Pharaoh  at  Thebes  or  Memphis,  sat  to  hear  and  to  judge  the 
complaints  of  their  people;  and  of  which  the  trace*  was  pre- 
served at  Athens  in  the  "  King's  Portico "  under  the  Pnyx, 
where  the  Archon  King  performed  the  last  judicial  functions 
of  the  last  shadow  of  the  old  Athenian  royalty.  But  it  was 
amongst  the  Romans  that  it  first  assumed  that  precise  form 
and  meaning  which  have  given  it  so  lasting  an  importance. 
Judging  from  the  great  prominence  of  the  Basilicas  as  public 
buildings,  and  from  the  more  extended  application  of  them  in 
the  Imperial  times  to  purposes  of  general  business,  the  nearest 
parallel  to  them  in  modern  cities  \\ould  doubtless  be  found  in 
the  Town-hall  or  Exchange.  What,  in  fact,  the  rock-hewn 
semicircle  of  the  Pnyx  was  at  Athens — what  the  open  plat- 
form of  the  Forum  had  been  in  the  earlier  days  of  Rome 
itself  f — that,  in  the  later  times  of  the  Commonwealth,  was 
the  Basilica — the  general  place  of  popular  resort  and  official 
transactions;  but,  in  accordance  with  the  increased  refinement 
of  a  more  civilized  age,  protected  from  the  midday  sun  and 
the  occasional  storm  by  walls  and  roof.  There  was  a  long 
hall  divided  by  two  rows  of  columns  into  a  central  avenue, 
with  two  side  aisles,  in  one  of  which  the  male,  in  the  other  the 
female  appellants  to  justice  waited  their  turn.  The  middle 
aisle  was  occupied  by  the  chance  crowd  that  assembled  to  hear 

*  It  is  perhaps  doubtful  how  far  the  form  of  the  word  "  Basilica,"  though  of 
course  itself  purely  (rreek,  was  ever  used  with  this  acceptation  in  Greece 
itself.  Stool  ^acr^Aeu)5  is  the  designation  of  the  Athenian  portico,  and  oIkos  or 
va'o-;  /Sao-tAeiu;  is  Eusebius"  expression  for  the  Christian  BasiUca. 

+  The  Tynwald  in  the  Isle  of  Man  is  an  exact  likeness  still  existing  of  these 
early  assemblies  in  the  open  air. 


164  CHBJSTJAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

the  proceedings,  or  for  purposes  of  merchandise.'  A  trans- 
verse avenue  which  crossed  the  others  in  the  centre,  if  used  at 
all,  was  occupied  by  the  advocates  and  others  engaged  in  the 
public  business.  The  whole  building  was  closed  by  a  long 
semicircular  recess,  in  the  center  of  which  sat  the  praetor  or 
supreme  judge,  seen  high  above  the  heads  of  all  on  the 
elevated  *  "  tribunal,"  which  was  deemed  the  indispensable 
symbol  of  the  Roman  judgment-seat. 

This  was  the  form  of  the  Basilica,  as  it  met  the  view  of  the 
first  Christians.  Few  words  are  needed  to  account  for  its 
Its  adapta-  adaptation  to  the  use  of  a  Christian  church.  Some- 
tian  wor-"^'  ^^^^'^S'  ^^*^  doubt,  is  to  be  ascribed,  as  Dean  Milman 
ship.  well  remarks,  to  the  fact,!  that  "as  these  buildings 

were  numerous,  and  attached  to  any  imperial  residence,  they 
might  be  bestowed  at  once  on  the  Christians  without  cither 
interfering  with  the  course  of  justice,  or  bringing  the  religious 
feelings  of  the  hostile  parties  into  collision."  Still,  the  instances 
of  actual  transformation  are  exceedingly  rare — in  most  cases  it 
must  have  been  imjjossible,  from  the  erection  of  the  early 
Christian  churches  on  the  graves,  real  or  supposed,  of  mart)  rs 
and  apostles,  which,  according  to  the  almost  universal  pi-actiee 
of  the  ancient  world,  were  necessarily  without  the  walls  of  the 
city,  as  the  halls  of  justice,  from  their  connection  with  every- 
day life,  were  necessarily  within.  It  is  on  more  general  grounds 
that  we  may  trace  something  in  the  type  itself  of  the  Basilica, 
at  least  not  uncongenial  to  the  early  Christian  views  of  wor- 
ship, independent  of  any  causes  of  mere  accidental  convenience. 
What  this  was  has  been  anticipated  in  what  has  been  said  of 
the  rejection  of  the  temple.  There  was  now  a  "  church,"  a 
"  congregation,"  an  "  assembly, "  which  could  no  longer  be 
hemmed  within  the  narrow  precincts,  or  detained  in  the  outer 
courts    of   the   inclosure — where  could  they  be   so   naturally 


*  The  "judgment-hall  "  or  prsetorium  of  the  Roman  magistrates  in  the  prov- 
inces had  no  further  resemblancf  to  the  Basilica  than  in  tlie  coincidence  of 
name  which  must  have  arisen  froin  tlicir  frequent  formation  out  of  the  palaces 
of  the  former  kings  of  the  cuiujucrcd  nations.  But  so  necessary  was  the 
elevation  of  the  judge's  seat  considered  to  the  final  delivery  of  the  sentence, 
that,  as  has  been  made  familiar  to  us  in  one  meiuorable  instance  (John  xix. 
13),  the  aV)sence  of  the  visual  tribunal  was  supplied  bv  a  tesselated  pavement, 
which  tlie  magistrate  carried  with  him,  and  on  whicli  liis  chair  or  tlirone  was 
jjlaced  before  he  could  pronounce  sentence. 

t  Histury  of  Cliriatidnity,  iii.  34^1 


THE  BASILICA.  165 

placed  as  in  the  long  aisles  -which  had  received  the  concourse 
of  the  Roman  populace,  and  which  now  became  the  "  nave " 
of  the  Christian  Cathedrals  ?  Whatever  distinctions  existed  in 
the  Christian  society  were  derived,  not  as  in  the  Jewish  temple, 
from  any  notions  of  inherent  religious  differences  between  dif- 
ferent classes  of  men,  but  merely,  as  in  the  Jewish  synagogue, 
from  considerations  of  order  and  decency;  and  where  could 
these  be  found  more  readily  than  in  the  separate  places  still 
retained  by  the  sexes  in  the  aisles  of  the  Basilica;  or  the 
appropriation  of  the  upper  end  of  the  building  to  the  clergy 
and  singers  ?  There  was  a  law  to  be  proclaimed,  and  a  verdict 
to  be  pronounced,  by  the  highest  officers  of  the  new  society ; 
and  what  more  natural,  than  that  the  Bishop  should  take  his 
seat  on  the  lofty  tribunal  of  the  pr;ietor,*  and  thence  rebuke, 
exhort,  or  command,  with  an  authority  not  the  less  con^dncing, 
because  it  was  moral  and  not  legal  ?  There  was,  lastly,  a  bond 
of  communion  between  all  the  members  of  that  assembly,  to 
which  the  occupants  of  the  Temple  and  the  Basilica  had  been 
alike  strangers — what  more  fitting  than  that  the  empty  centre  of 
the  ancient  judgment-hall,  where  its  several  avenues  and  aisles 
joined  in  one,  should  now  receive  a  new  meaning;  and  that 
there,  neither  in  the  choir  nor  nave,  but  in  the  meeting  point 
of  both,  should  be  erected  the  Altar  or  Table  of  that  commu- 
nion which  w^as  to  belong  exclusively  neither  to  the  clergy  nor 
to  the  people,  but  to  bind  both  together  in  indissoluble  har- 
mony ?  f 

*  The  Basilica  >Emiliana  and  the  Basilica  Julia  were  examples  in  the  Roman 
Forum  of  this  sort  of  edifice  But  there  were  others  whei-e  the  judicial  charac- 
ter was  more  strongly  impressed  on  tlie  building.  Such  were  the  Basilica  Ses- 
soriana,  now  converted  into  the  Chin-ch  of  Sta.  Croce  in  the  Sessorian  Palace 
at  Rome;  the  Basilica  Palatina,  still  to  be  traced  on  the  ruins  of  the  Palatine, 
with  its  apse  and  its  ( ibl(  mg  hall ;  the  Basilica  attached  to  the  palace  at  Treves, 
and  since  converted  into  a  Protestant  church  by  the  late  King  of  Prussia. 

t  The  "  atrium  ''  and  "  impluviuni  '  of  the  more  private  hall  seem  to  have 
become  the  models  of  the  outer  court  and  "cantharus"  or  foimtain  of  the 
Basilica.  The  obvious  appropriation  of  the  seats  immediately  round  tiie  altar 
to  the  emperor  and  his  attendants,  when  present,  is  preserved  in  the  probable 
derivation  of  "chancellor,"  from  the  "cancelli  "  or  "  rails,"  by  which  that 
officer  sat.  In  the  Eastern  Church  the  screen  of  the  Iconostasis,  wiiich  now 
divides  the  nave  from  the  choir,  has  assumed  a  solid  shape  to  furnish  a  stand 
for  the  increasing  multiplication  of  sacred  pictures.  But  originally  it  was  a 
cm-tain,  then  a  light  trellis  work.  And  in  the  Western  Church  it  has  never  in- 
truded, until  in  the  fifteenth  century,  for  quite  a7iother  reason,  the  screen  was 
introduced  to  hide  the  local  slmne  of  the  saint,  as  at  St.  Albans  and  Westmin- 
ster Abbey  (if  so  be)  from  the  eyes  of  common  worshippers.  The  altar  v,as  a 
wooden  structure,  as  it  still  is  in  the  Eastern  Church  It  was  gradually  chang- 
ed to  stone  in  the  sixth  century,  from  the  incorporation  of  a  relic  of  a  saint 


166  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

There  are  some  general  reflections  whicli  this  transformation 
suggests.  In  the  first  place,  it  may  no  doubt  have  been  an 
accident  that  the  first  Christian  place  of  worship  should  have 
been  taken  from  an  edifice  so  expressive  of  the  popular  life  of 
Greece  and  Rome, — so  exact  an  antithesis  to  the  seclusion  of 
the  Jewish  and  Pagan  Temple.  But,  if  it  was  an  accident,  it 
is  strikingly  in  accordance  with  all  that  we  know  of  the  strength 
of  the  popular  element  of  the  early  Church, — not  merely  in  its 
first  origin,  Avhen  even  an  Apostle  did  not  pronounce  sentence 
on  an  offender,  or  issue  a  decree  or  appoint  an  officer,  without 
the  concurrence  of  the  whole  society;  but  even  in 
character  of  tliose  later  times,  when  Augustine  fled  from  city 
the  Church.  ^^  ^j^y  ^^  escape  from  the  elevation  Avhich  he  was 
destined  to  receive  from  the  wild  enthusiasm  of  a  n  African 
populace  ;  when  a  layman,  a  magistrate,  an  unbaptized  cate- 
chumen was,  on  the  chance  acclamation  of  an  excited  mob, 
transformed  into  Ambrose,  Archbishop  of  Milan.  It  is  pre- 
cisely this  true  image  of  the  early  Church,  the  union  of  essen- 
tial religious  equality  with  a  growing  distinction  of  rank  and 
order,  that  the  Basilica  was  to  bring  before  us  in  a  visible  and 
tangible  shape.  It  might  have  been  unnatural,  if  the  whole 
constitution,  the  whole  religion  of  the  three  first  centuries  was 
wrapt  up  in  the  institution  of  Bishops,  Priests,  and  Deacons; 
but  it  could  not  have  been  deemed  altogether  strange,  in  an 
age  that  still  caught  the  echoes  of  that  contest  which  convulsed 
the  early  Christian  society,  between  the  last  expiring  efforts  of 
the  popular  element  of  the  Church  and  the  first  germ  of  the 
rule  of  the  clergy. 

Again,  the  rise  of  the  first  edifice  of  Christian  worship,  not 
out  of  the  Jewish  Temple,  nor  even  the  Jewish  Synagogue, 
The  secular  but  out  of  the  Roman  hall  of  justice,  nuiy  be  re- 
oriKmof        o-ardcd  as  no  inapt  illustration  of  another  fact  of 

Christian  ^  r^^      •       •  l   •  ttt  !•  -Til 

usages.  early  Christian  history.      \\  e  are  oiten  reminded  by 

the  polemics  of  opposite  schools  of  the  identity  of  early  Chris- 
tian customs  and  institutions  with  those  of  the  older  dispensa- 


inside,  and  the  wish  to  consider  it  as  a  tomb  (see  Cliapter  XI.).  What  was 
therefore  once  its  universal  material  lias  since  then  lieeii  absolutely  forbidden 
in  the  Roman  Church.  It  was  also  commonly  placed  in  tiie  middle  of  the 
apse  of  the  church.  The  modern  practice  of  its  attachment  to  the  eastern 
wall  was  absolutely  unknown.  Its  ancient  name  was  "  the  Table,"  by  which 
it  is  still  always  called  in  the  East.    (See  Chapter  III.) 


THE  BASILICA.  167 

tion.  Few  topics  have  been  more  popular  in  modern  times, 
whether  in  praise  or  blame,  than  the  Judaic  character  of  the 
worship,  ministry,  and  teaching  of  the  three  first  centuries. 
But  the  indisputable  share  which  the  Gentile  world  has  had  in 
the  material  buildings  of  the  Christian  Church,  suggests  a 
doubt  whether  it  may  not  have  also  contributed  something 
to  the  no  less  complex  structure  of  its  moral  fabric.  The  influ- 
ence of  Judaism  on  the  first  century  was  undoubtedly  very 
great.  On  the  one  hand,  the  early  sects  had  all  more  or  less 
something  of  a  Judaizing  character;  on  the  other  hand,  even 
the  Apostles  could  not  have  been  what  they  were  had  they  not 
been  Jews.  But  the  fall  of  Jerusalem  was  in  truth  the  fall  of 
the  Jewish  world ;  it  was  a  reason  for  the  close  of  the  Apostolic 
age — a  death-blow  to  the  influence  of  the  Jewish  nationality 
for  a  long  time  to  come  on  the  future  fortunes  of  the  world  at 
large.  Something,  no  doubt,  both  of  its  form  and  spirit,  lin- 
gered on,  in  the  institutions  of  that  great  society  Avhich  sprung 
out  of  its  ruins ;  but  however  much  the  mere  ceremonial 
and  superficial  aspect  of  the  Patristic  age  may  bear  a  Jewish 
physiognomy,  it  is  to  the  influences  at  work  in  the  social  fabric 
of  the  Roman  Empire  itself,  that  we  must  seek  the  true  springs 
of  action  in  the  Christian  Church, — so  far  as  they  came  from  any 
foreign  source.  It  is  therefore  with  something  more  than  a 
mere  artistical  interest  that  we  find  the  Bishop  seated  on  the 
chair  of  the  Pi'astor — the  forms  of  the  cathedral  already  wrapt 
up  in  the  halls  of  ^Emilius  and  of  Trajan.  It  is  in  accordance 
not  only  with  the  more  general  influence  to  which  the  Christian 
society  was  exposed,  from  the  rhetorical  subtleties,  the  magical 
superstitions,  the  idolatrous  festiv'als,  and  the  dissolute  habits 
of  the  heathen  world  at  large,  but  also  with  the  more  especial 
influence  which  the  purely  political  spirit  of  the  Roman  State 
exercised  over  some  of  their  most  peculiar  institutions — with 
the  fact  that  the  very  names  by  which  the  functions  of  their 
ofiicers  are  described  sprung  not  from  the  religious,  but  from 
the  ci\dl  vocabulary  of  the  times,  and  are  expressions  not  of 
spiritual  so  much  as  of  pohtical  power.  "Ordo"  (the  origin 
of  our  present  "orders")  was  the  well-known  name  of  the 
municipal  senates  of  the  empire;  "ordinatio"  (the  original  of 
our  "ordination")  was  never  used  by  the  Romans  except  for 
ci\-il  appointments ;  the  "  tribunes  of  the  people  "  are  the  like- 


168  CHBISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

ness  which  tlie  historian  «>f  the  "Decline  and  Fall"  recognizes 
in  the  early  (christian  Bishops  ;  the  preponderance  of  the  Gentile 
spirit  of  government  and  the  revival  of  the  spirit  of  the  Roman 
Senate  in  the  counsels  of  Cyprian  was  the  thought  which  forced 
itself  on  the  mind  of  the  last  English  historian  of  Rome.  The 
Church  of  Rome  developed  thus  early  the  idea  of  authority 
and  subordination.  Evils  and  abuses  innumerable  no  doubt 
flowed  from  the  excess  of  this  influence  of  the  Christian  Church, 
but  in  itself  it  was  a  true  instinct,  which  no  arguments  about 
the  contrast  of  civil  and  spiritucd  power  were  able  completely 
to  extinguish.*  The  free  spirit  of  the  Roman  citizen  felt  that 
it  could  breathe  nowhere  so  freely  as  in  the  bosom  of  the  Chris- 
tian society.  The  CJiristian  minister  felt  that  no  existing 
office  or  title  to  power  was  so  solemn  as  that  of  the  Roman 
magistrate;  and  it  was  a  striking  act  of  homage  to  the  great- 
ness of  the  Empire  that  by  an  instinct,  however  unconscious, 
the  hall  of  Roman  justice  should  not  have  been  deemed  too 
secular  for  a  place  of  Christian  worship. 

Yet  once  more,  we  have  seen  how  the  very  name  of  Basilica 
leads  our  thoughts  back  to  the  period  of  Roman  greatness  and 
The  use  of  Grecian  refinement,  how  naturally  the  several  parts 
^■rt-  of   the    heathen    and  the    secular    edifice    adapted 

themselves  to  their  higher  use,  how,  on  the  one  hand  (if  we 
take  the  Christian  service,  not  in  its  worse,  but  in  its  oetter 
aspect),  the  den  of  thieves  was  changed  into  the  house  of 
prayer — the  words  of  heavenly  love  spoken  from  the  inexorable 
seat  of  Roman  judgment — the  halls  of  wrangling  converted 
into  the  abodes  of  worship ; — how,  on  the  other  hand,  the  idea 
of  the  public  and  social  life  wdiich  the  Basilica  has  brought 
with  it  from  Greece,  the  idea  of  an  irresistible  law  and  univer- 
sal dominion  which  had  been  impressed  upon  it  by  the  genius 
of  Rome,  first  found  their  complete  development  under  the 
shadow  of  that  faith  which  was  to  preserve  them  both  to  the 
new  world  of  Europe.  It  is  possible  to  trace,  in  this  trans- 
figuration of  the  ancient  images  of  Gentile  power  and  civiliza- 
tion, a  sign,  however  faint,  of  the  true  spirit  of  that  faith 
which  here  found  an  outward  expression.     Had  unrestrained 


*  See  Renan's  Hihbert  Lectures  on  the  Influence  of  Rome  on  Christianity 
and  the  Catholic  Church. 


i 


THE  BASILICA.  169 

scope  been  given  to  the  tendency  which  strove  to  assimilate  all 
Christian  worship  to  the  religious  ceremonial  of  Judaism  or 
Paganism,  it  might  have  perpetuated  itself  by  adopting  in  all 
cases,  as  it  certainly  did  in  some,  the  type,  if  not  of  the  Roman, 
at  least  of  the  Jewish  temple.  Had  the  stern  indifference  to 
all  forms  of  arts  prevailed  everywhere,  and  at  all  times,  during 
the  first  three  centuries,  as  it  did  during  the  ages  of  persecution 
and  in  the  deserts  of  the  Thebaid,  it  would  probably  have 
swept  away  outward  localities  and  forms  of  worship  altogether. 
A  higher  spirit,  undoubtedly,  than  either  of  these  tendencies 
represent,  there  has  always  been  in  the  Christian  Church, 
whether  latent  or  expressed; — a  spirit  which  would  m.ake 
religion  to  consist  not  in  the  identification  of  things  with  itself 
nor  yet  in  a  complete  repudiation  of  them — but  in  its  compre- 
hension and  appropriation  of  them  to  its  own  uses; — which 
would  look  upon  the  world  neither  as  too  profane,  nor  too 
insignificant,  for  the  regard  of  Clirictians,  but  rather  as  the 
very  sphere  in  which  Christianity  \z  to  live  and  to  triumph. 
To  what  extent  such  a  spirit  may  have  coexisted  with  all  the 
counteracting  lements  which  it  must  have  met  in  the  age  of 
Constantino,  we  do  not  pretend  to  say:  but  if  the  view  above 
given  be  correct,  it  is  precisely  such  a  spiiit  as  this  which  is 
represented  to  us  in  outward  form  by  the  origin  of  the  Chris- 
tian Basilica.  It  is  precisely  such  a  monument  as  best  befitted 
the  first  public  recognition  of  a  religir  n  whose  especial  claim  it 
was  that  it  embraced  not  one  nation  only,  nor  one  element 
of  human  nature  only,  but  all  the  nati  ns  and  all  the  various 
elements  of  the  whole  world.  The  Gothic  Cathedral  may  have 
had  its  origin  quite  independently  of  its  precursors  in  Italy, 
and  may  have  been  a  truer  exponent  of  the  whole  range  of 
Christian  feeling ;  but  neither  it,  nor  any  other  form  of  Archi- 
tecture could  have  won  its  way  into  the  Christian  world,  unless 
the  rise  of  the  Basili  a  had  first  vindicated  the  application 
of  Gentile  art,  whether  Roman  or  Teutonic,  to  sacred  purposes. 
The  selection  of  the  Halls  of  Justice  may  have  been  occasioned 
by  merely  temporary  and  accidental  causes;  but  the  mere  fact 
of  the  selection  of  such  sites  or  such  models,  unhallowed  by 
ancient  tradition,  or  primeval  awe,  was  in  itself  a  new  phenom- 
enon— was  in  itself  the  sign  that  a  Religion  was  come  into  the 
world,  confident   of  its  own  intrinsic   power  of  consecrating 


170  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

whatever  it  touched,  independently  of  any  outward  or  external 
relation  whatever. 

A  similar  tendency  may  be  perceived  in  the  subsequent 
adaptation  of  the  successive  styles  of  mediaeval  and  classical 
structures  of  Christian  and  Protestant  worship.  The  gathering 
of  large  masses  in  the  nave  or  the  transepts  of  cathedrals, 
of  which  only  a  small  portion  had  been,  properly  speaking, 
devoted  to  religious  uses,  is  an  instance  of  these  edifices  lend- 
ing themselves  to  purposes  for  which  they  were  not  originally 
intended.  But  of  all  such  examples,  the  Basilica  is  the  earliest 
and  the  most  striking, 


TEE  CLERGY.  171 


CHAPTER    X. 

THE    CLERGY. 

It  is  proposed  to  state  briefly  the  early  constitution  of  the 
Christian  clergy.* 

I.  It  is  certain  that  the  ofiicers  of  the  Apostolical,  or  of  any 
subsequent,  Church  were  not  part  of  the  original  institution  of 
the  Founder  of  our  religion ;  that  of  Bishop,  Presbyter,  and 
Deacon,  of  Metropolitan,  Patriarch,  and  Pope,  there  is  not  the 
shadow  of  a  trace  in  the  four  Gospels.  It  is  certain  that 
they  arose  gradually  out  of  the  pre-existing  institutions  either 
of  the  Jewish  Synagogue,  or  of  the  Roman  Empire,  or  of  the 
Greek  municipalities,  or  under  the  pressure  of  local  emergen- 
cies. It  is  certain  that  throughout  the  first  century,  and  for 
the  first  years  of  the  secoi.d,  that  is,  through  the  later  chapters 
of  the  Acts,  the  Apostolical  Epistles,  and  the  writings  of  Clem- 
ent and  Hermas,  Bishop  aiid  Presbyter  were  convertible  terms, 
and  that  the  body  of  men  so  called  were  the  rulers — so  far 
as  any  permanent  rulers  existed — of  the  early  Church.  It  is 
certain  that  as  the  necessities  of  the  time  demanded,  first  at 
Jerusalem,  then  in  Asia  Minor,  the  elevation  of  one  Presby- 
ter above  the  rest  by  the  almost  universal  law,  which  even 
in  republics  engenders  a  monarchical  element,  the  word 
"Bishop"  gradually  changed  its  meaning,  and  by  the  middle 
of  the  second  century  became  restricted  to  the  chief  Presbyter 
of  the  locality.  It  is  certain  that  in  no  instance  were  the 
Apostles  called  "  Bishops  "  in  any  other  sense  than  they  Avere 

*  The  proofs  of  what  is  here  stated  have  been  given  before  in  the  essay  "On 
the  Apostolical  Office,"  in  Sermons  and  Essa;/s  on  the  Apostolical  Age.  and 
are  therefore  not  repeated  here.  And  it  is  the  less  necessary,  because  they 
have  been  in  later  times  elaborated  at  g:rpat  lensrth  and  with  the  most  con- 
vincing arguments  by  Bishop  Lightfoot  in  his  "  Essay  on  the  Christian  Min- 
istry "  appended  lo  his  Commextnry  on  the  Enistle  to  the  Philipiiians.  and  by 
the  Rev.  Edwin  Hatch  in  his  articles  on  "Bishop"  and  "Presbyter"  in  the 
Dictionary  of  Christian  Antirpiities.  as  well  as  in  his  more  recent  Bamptou 
Lectures.    These  may  be  consulted  for  any  further  detail. 


172  CEBISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

equally  called  "Presbyters"  and  "Deacons."  It  is  certain 
that  in  no  instance  before  the  beginning  of  the  third  century 
the  title  or  function  of  the  Pagan  or  Jewish  Priesthood  is  ap- 
plied to  the  Christian  pastors.  From  these  facts  result  general 
conclusions  of  general  interest. 

1.  It  is  important  to  observe  how  with  the  recognition  of 

this  gradual  growth  and  change  of  the  early  names  and  offices 

x,    ...     .     of  the  Christian  ministry,  the  long;  and  fierce  con- 
identity  of  '^       ,      ,       ® 
Bishop  and     troversy  between  Presbyterianisra  and  Episcopacy, 

Presbyter,  ^^liich  continued  from  tlae  sixteenth  to  the  first  part 
of  the  nineteenth  century,  has  entirely  lost  its  significance.  It 
is  as  sure  that  nothing  like  modern  Episcopacy  existed  before 
the  close  of  the  first  century  as  it  is  that  nothing  like  modern 
Presbyterianism  existed  after  the  beginning  of  the  second. 
That  Avhich  was  once  the  Gordian  knot  of  theologians  has  at 
least  in  this  instance  been  untied,  not  by  the  sword  of  persecu- 
tion, but  by  the  patient  unravelment  of  scholarship.  No  exist- 
ing church  can  find  any  pattern  or  platform  of  its  government 
in  those  early  times.  Churches,  like  States,  have  not  to  go 
back  to  a  state  of  barbarism  to  justify  their  constitu- 
tion. It  has  been  the  misfortune  of  Churches,  that,  unlike 
States,  there  has  been  on  all  sides  equally  a  disposition  cither 
to  assume  the  existence  in  early  days  of  all  the  later  princi- 
ples of  civilization,  or  else  to  imagine  a  primitive  state  of 
things  which  never  existed  at  all. 

2.  These  formations  or  transformations  of  the  Christian 
ministry  were  drawn  from  the  contemporary  usages  of  society. 
The  Deacons  were  the  most  original  of  the  institutions,  being 
Origin  of  the  invented,  as  it  were,  for  the  special  emergency  in  the 
Orders.  Church  of  Jerusalem.  But  the  Presbyters  were  the 
"  sheikhs,"  the  ciders — those  who  by  seniority  had  reached  the 
first  rank — in  the  Jewish  Synagogue.  The  Bishops  were  the 
same,  viewed  under  another  aspect — the  "inspectors,"  the 
"auditors,"  of  the  Grecian  churches.*  These  words  bear  tes- 
timony to  the  fact  (as  significant  of  the  truly  spiritual  charac- 
ter of  Christianity  as  it  is  alien  to  its  magical  character)  that 
the  various  orders  of  the  Christian  ministry  point  to  their 
essentially  lay  origin  and  their  affinity  with  the  great  secular 

*  See  the  authorities  quoted  in  Renan,  St.  Paul,  239. 


THE  CLERQT.  173 

world,  of  which  the  elements  had  been  pronounced  from  the 
beginning  of  Christianity  to  be  neither  "  common  nor  un- 
clean." 

3.  It  is  interesting  to  observe  the  relics  of  the  primitive  con- 
dition of  the  Church,  which  have  survived  through  all  the 
changes  of  time. 

The  Bishop,  in  the  second  century,  when  first  he  became 
elevated  above  his  fellow  Presbyters,  appears  for  a  time  to 
have    concentrated    in    himself   all    the    functions  ^^   ^.        , 

VCStlETCS  of 

which  they  had  hitherto  exercised.  If  they  had  thepiimi- 
hitherto  been  coequal  Bishops  he  gradually  became  *'^'*^  "sages, 
almost  sole  Presbyter.  He  alone  could  baptize,  consecrate, 
confirm,  ordain,  marry,  preach,  absolve.  But  this  exclusive 
monopoly  has  never  been  fully  conceded.  In  almost  every  one 
of  these  cases  the  Presbyters  have  either  not  altogether  lost  or 
have  recovered  some  of  their  ancient  privileges.  In  all  Churches 
the  exclusive  absorption  of  the  privileges  of  the  Presbyters  into 
the  hands  of  the  Bishop  has  been  either  resisted  or  modified 
by  occasional  retention  of  the  old  usages.  Everywhere  Pres- 
byters have  successfully  reasserted  the  power  of  consecrating, 
baptizing,  marrying,  and  absolving.  Everywhere,  except  in 
the  English  Churcli,  they  have,  in  special  cases,  claimed  the 
right  of  confirming.  Everywhere  they  have,  with  the  Bishop, 
retained  a  share  in  the  right  of  ordaining  Presbyters.  At 
Alexandria  they  long  retained  the  right  of  ordaining  Bishops.* 
We  commonly  speak  of  three  Orders,  and  the  present  eleva- 
tion of  Bishops  has  fully  justified  that  phrase;  but  according 
to  the  strict  rules  of  the  Church,  derived  from  those  early 
times,  there  are  but  two — Presbyters  and  Deacons. f  The  Ab- 
bots of  the  Middle  Ages  represent  in  the  Episcopal  Churches 
the  Presbyterian  element — independent  of  the  jurisdiction  of 
Bishops,  and  equal  to  them  in  all  that  concerned  outward  dig- 
nity. 

4.  Of  all  the  oflfices  in  the  early  Church,  that  of  Deacon  was 


♦See  Lectures  on  the  Eastern  Church  (Lecture  VII.);  Bishop  Lightfoot, 
"The  Christian  Ministry,"  in  Commentary  on  the  Philippiuns,  pp.  2:i8-230. 

+  It  would  seem  tliat  in  those  centuries  the  chief  pastor  of  every  city  was  a 
Bishop,  and  those  who  loolced  after  the  villages  in  the  surrounding  district 
were  called  country  bishops  (xwpeTio'KOTnoi');  whether  Presbyters  or  Bishops 
in  the  later  sense  is  a  question  which,  from  the  identity  of  the  two  Orders,  it 
is  impossible  to  determine  witli  certainty. 


174  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

subjected  to  the  most  extreme  changes.  Their  origin  (if,  as  i.i 
The  Dea-  probable,  we  must  identify  them  more  or  less  with 
cons.  the  Seven  in  the  Acts)  is  the  only  part  of  the  institu- 

tion of  the  Christian  ministry  of  which  we  have  a  full  descrip- 
tion.* It  was  the  oldest  ecclesiastical  function;  the  most 
ancient  of  the  Holy  Orders.  It  was  grounded  on  the  eleva- 
tion of  the  care  of  the  poor  to  the  rank  of  a  religious  service, 
it  was  the  proclamation  of  the  truth  that  social  questions  are 
to  take  the  first  place  amongst  religious  instruction.  It  was 
the  recognition  of  political  economy  as  part  of  religious  knowl- 
edge. The  Deacons  became  the  first  preachers  of  Christianity. 
They  were  the  first  Evangelists,  because  they  were  the  first  to 
find  their  way  to  the  homes  of  the  poor.  They  were  the  con- 
structors of  the  most  solid  and  durable  of  the  institutions  of 
Christianity,  namely,  the  institutions  of  charity  and  benefi- 
cence. Women  as  well  as  men  were  enrolled  in  the  order. 
They  were  district-visitors,  lay-helpers  on  the  largest  scale. 
Nothing  shoAvs  the  divergence  between  it  and  the  modern 
Order  of  Deacon  more  completely  than  the  divergence  of 
numbers.  In  the  Greek,  Roman,  and  English  Churches,  and, 
it  may  be  added,  in  the  Presbyterian  Churches,  there  are  as 
many  Deacons  as  Presbyters.  But  in  the  early  Church  the 
Presbyters  were  the  many,  the  Deacons  the  few,  and  their 
fewness  made  their  office  not  the  smallest  but  the  proudest 
office  and  prize  in  the  Church.']- 

The  only  institution  which  retains  at  once  the  name  and 
the  reality  is  the  Diaconate  as  it  exists  in  the  Dutch  Church. 
The  seven  Deacons  of  Rome  exist  as  a  shadow  in  the  Cardinal 
Deacons  of  the  Sacred  College  of  Rome,  but  only  as  a  shadow. 
They  were  the  seven  chaplains  or  officers  of  the  Church. 
Their  head  was  an  acknowledged  potentate  of  the  first  magni- 
tude. He  was  the  -^rc/ideacon.  Such  was  Lawrence  at 
Rome,  such  was  Athanasius  at  Alexandria,  such  was  the  Arch- 
deacon of  Canterbury  in  England.  If  any  one  were  asked 
\\  ho  was  the  first  ecclesiastic  of  Western  Christendom,  he 
would  naturally  and  properly  say,  the  Bishop  of  Rome.     But 


*  Renan,  Les  Apotres,  pp.  120-122. 

t  Jerome,  Epist.  ad  Evagrium ;  Tbomassin,  Vetus  et  Nova  Disciplina,  i.  il. 
S9. 


i 


THE  CLERQ7.  175 

the  second  is  not  an  arclibishop,  not  a  cardinal,  but  the  Arch- 
deacon of  Rome.  Till  the  eleventh  century  this  was  so 
absolutely.  That  office  was  last  filled  by  Hildebrand,  and  in 
the  deed  of  consecration  of  the  Church  of  Monte  Casino,  his 
name  succeeds  immediately  to  that  of  the  Pope,  and  is  suc- 
ceeded by  that  of  the  Bishop  of  Ostia.  Since  his  time  the 
office  has  been  rarely  filled,  and  has  been  virtually  abolished.* 

5.  Before  the  conversion  of  the  Empire,  Bishops  and  Pres- 
byters alike  were  chosen  by  the  whole  mass  of  the  people  f  in 
the  parish  or  the  diocese  (the  words  at  that  time  Appoint- 
were  almost  interchangeable).  The  election  of  nient. 
Damasus  at  Rome,  of  Grcgery  at  Constantinople,  of  Ambrose 
at  Milan,  and  of  Chrysostom  at  Constantinople  are  decisive 
proofs  of  this  practice.  There  were,  no  doubt,  attempts  in 
particular  instances  to  modify  these  popular  elections,  some- 
times by  the  bishops,  as  in  Egypt,  against  the  Melitians  in  the 
Council  of  Nicaea,  sometimes  as  at  Rome,  of  the  leading  clergy 
of  the  place,  which  gave  birth  to  the  College  of  Cardinals,  but 
ultimately  in  every  case  by  the  influence  of  the  sovereign,  first 
of  the  Emperor,  aud  then  of  the  several  princes  of  Europe. 

6.  The  form  of  consecration  or  ordination  varied.     In  the 
Alexandrian  and  Abyssinian  Churches  it  was,  and  still  is,  by 
breathing;  in  the  Eastern  Church  generally  by  lift-  „  . 
ing  up  the  hands  in  the  ancient  oriental  attitude  of  consecra- 
benediction  ;  in  the  Armenian  Church,  as  also  at  ^^°^- 
times  in  the  Alexandrian  Church,  by  the  dead  hand  of  tho 
predecessor;  in  the  early  Celtic  Church,  by  the  transmission 
of  relics  or  pastoral  staff;  in  the  Latin  Church  by  the  form  of 
touching  the  head,  which  has  been  adopted  from  it  by  all 
Protestant  Churches.     No  one  mode  was  universal ;  no  written 
formula  of  ordination  exists.     That  by  which  the  Presbyters 
of  the  Western   Church  are  ordained  is  not   later  than  the 
twelfth   century,  and  even   that   varies  widely  in  the   place 
assigned  to  it  in  the  Roman  and  in  the  English  Churches.^ 

7.  Of  the  ordinary  ministrations  of  the  early  clergy  it  is 


*  Thomassin,  Vetus  et  Nova  Disciplina.  i.  lib.  ii.  c.  20,  s.  3.  The  Archdeacon 
of  Constantinople  ceased  about  the  same  time.  The  first  instance  of  a  Pres- 
byter Archdeacon  is  a.d.  874. 

+  By  show  of  hands  (veipoTovta).    Kenan's  -S(.  Paul,  p.  838. 

X  See  Chapter  Vn. 


176  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTION'S. 

difficult  to  form  any  conception.  One  rule,  however,  is  tnowii 
to  liave  regulated  their  condition,  which  every  Church  in 
Christendom  has  since  rejected  except  the  Abyssinian.  It  was 
positively  forbidden  in  the  fourth  century,  evidently  in  con- 
formity with  prevailing  usage,  for  any  Bishop,  Presbyter,  or 
Deacon,  to  leave  the  parish  or  diocese  in  which  he  had  been 
originally  placed. 

The  clergy  were,  as  a  general  rule,  married ;  and  though  in 
the  Eastern  Church  this  long  ceased  as  regards  Bishops,  and 
in  the  Latin  Church  altogether,  in  the  Church  of  the  three  first 
centuries  it  was  universal. 

The  regulations  in  the  Pastoral  Epistles,  which  are  under 
any  hypothesis  the  earliest  documents  or  laws  describing  the 
duties  of  the  clergy,  dwell  very  slightly  *  on  the  office  of 
teaching,  do  not  even  mention  the  sacraments,  and  are  for  the 
most  part  confined  to  matters  of  conduct  and  sobriety.  The 
teaching  functions  were  added  to  those  of  government  as  the 
Christian  Church  grew  in  intelligence,  and  have  varied  with 
the  circumstances  of  the  age.  The  present  Eastern  Church, 
though  once  abounding  in  them,  is  now  almost  entirely  with- 
out them ;  in  the  Western  Church  they  have  never  been 
altogether  absent;  in  the  Protestant  churches  they  have 
almost  absorbed  all  others.  But  in  all,  unlike  the  Jewish  and 
Pagan  Priesthoods,  the  intellectual  and  pastoral  attributes  have 
been  in  theory  predommant,  and  have  been  the  main-stay  of 
the  office. 

II.  From  these  changes  two  conclusions  follow. 

1.  In  the  first  beginning  of  Christianity  there  was  no  such 
institution  as  the  clergy,  and  it  is  conceivable  that  there  may 
Th  th    ^^  ^  i\vaQ  when  they  shall  cease  to  be.     But  though 

of  the  the  office  of  the  Christian  ministry  was  not  one  of 

clergy.  ^j^^  original   and  essential  elements  of  the  Christian 

religion,  yet  it  grew  naturally  out  of  the  want  which  was 
created.  There  was  a  kind  of  natural  necessity  for  the  growth 
of  the  clergy  in  order  to  meet  the  increasing  needs  of  the 
Christian  community.  Just  as  kings  and  judges  and  soldiers 
sprang  up  to  suit  the  wants  of  civil  society,  so  the  clergy 

*  The  only  expression  which  bears  upon  teaching  in  the  catalogue  of  a 
Bishop's  (or  Presbyter's)  duties  in  1  Tim.  iii.  2-7,  is  "  apt  to  teach  "  (£ifiaKTt«<Jt) 
in  ver.  7,  and  in  Tit.  i.  ii.  the  expressious  used  in  ver.  tf. 


THE  CLERGY.  177 

sprang  np  to  meet  the  wants  of  religious  society.  Even  in 
those  religious  communities  which  have  endeavored  to  dispense 
with  such  an  order  it  has  reasserted  itself  in  other  forms.  The 
Mussulman  religion,  properly  speaking,  admits  of  no  clergy. 
But  the  legal  profession  has  very  nearly  taken  their  place. 
The  Mufti  and  the  Imam  are  religious  quite  as  much  as  they 
are  civil  authorities.  The  English  Society  of  Friends,  although 
they  acknowledge  no  separate  Order,  yet  have  always  had 
well-known  accredited  teachers,  who  are  to  them  as  the  Popes 
and  Pastors  of  their  community. 

The  intellectual  element  in  the  Christian  society  will  always 
require  some  one  to  express  it,  and  this,  in  some  form  or 
another,  will  probably  be  the  clergy,  or,  as  Coleridge  expressed 
it,  the  "Clerisy."  The  mechanical  part  of  the  office,  which 
was  characteristic  of  the  Priest,  did  not  belong  to  the  office  in 
early  Christian  times.  The  "  elders  "  were  derived  from  the 
Jewish  synagogue,  but  it  was  the  excellence  of  Christianity  to 
inspire  them  with  a  new  life,  to  make  them  fill  a  new  place,  to 
make  them  occupy  all  the  vacant  opportunities  of  good  that 
this  world  offers. 

2.  It  has  been  said  that  the  Christian  Church  or  Society 
existed  before  the  institution  of  the  Christian  clergy.  In  like 
manner  the  Christian  clergy  existed  before  the  origin  of 
institution  of  Christian  Bishops.  In  the  first  age  Episcopacy, 
there  was  no  such  marked  distinction  as  now  we  find  between 
the  different  orders  of  the  clergy.  It  was  only  by  slow 
degrees  that  the  name  of  Bishop  became  appropriated  to  one 
chief  pastor  raised  high  in  rank  and  station  above  the  mass  of 
the  clergy.  But  here,  again,  it  was  the  demand  which  created 
the  supply.  The  demand  for  distinction  and  inequality  of 
officers  arose  from  the  fact  that  there  is  in  human  nature  a 
distinction  and  inequality  of  gifts.  If  all  clergymen  were 
equal  in  character  and  power,  there  would  be  no  place  for 
inequality  of  rank  or  station  amongst  them.  It  is  because, 
like  other  men,  they  are  unequally  gifted,  because  there  are 
from  time  to  time  amongst  them,  as  amongst  others,  men  w^ho 
have  been  endowed  with  superior  natures,  that  Episcoj)acy 
exists  and  will  always  exist,  in  substance,  if  not  in  form,  but 
often  in  form  also,  because  the  substance  of  the  character 
claims  an  outward  form  in  which  to  embody  itself.     Doubt- 

S* 


178  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

less  there  have  been  times  when  the  clergy  and  the  Church 
were  able  to  effect  their  great  objects  in  the  world  without  the 
aid  of  higher  officers ;  just  as  there  have  been  battles  which 
have  been  won  by  the  rank  and  file  of  soldiers  without  the 
aid,  or  even  in  spite,  of  generals.  But  still  the  more  usual 
experience  of  mankind  has  proved  that  in  all  conditions  of 
life  there  are  men  who  rise  above  their  fellows,  and  who  there- 
fore need  corresponding  offices  in  which  these  more  command- 
ing gifts  may  find  a  place ;  and  who  by  the  development  of 
those  gifts  through  the  higher  offices  are  themselves  a  standing 
proof  that  the  offices  are  necessary.  Even  in  the  Apostolic 
age,  before  the  existence  of  what  we  now  call  Bishops,  and 
when  the  word  Bishop  was  synonymous  with  Presbyter  or 
Elder,  there  were  forward  and  gifted  disciples,  like  Timotheus 
and  Titus,  who  took  the  lead.  Even  in  Presbyterian  Churches 
we  see  again  and  again  men  who  by  their  superior  character 
and  attainments  are  Bishops  in  all  but  in  name,  and  who  only 
need  such  offices  to  call  out  their  full  energies.  There  exist 
Episcopal  Churches,  such  as  those  in  Greece  and  Italy,  where 
the  Bishops  have  been  so  numerous  that,  as  in  early  times, 
they  have  been  but  Presbyters  with  another  name.  But  in 
England,  and  in  former  days  in  Germany,  they  have  always 
been  comparatively  few  in  number,  and  it  is  this  rarity,  this 
exaltation,  which  causes  that  agreement  of  the  office  with  the 
natural  fitness  of  things. 

III.  In  what  sense  can  the  institution  of  the  Clergy  or  of 
Bishops  be  said  to  have  a  divine  origin  ?  Not  in  the  sense  of  its 
.  .  having  been  directly  and  visibly  established  by  the 
Founder  of  Christianity.  Amongst  the  gifts  which 
our  Lord  gave  to  mankind  during  His  life  on  earth,  the  Christian 
ministry,  as  we  now  possess  it,  is  not  one.  He  gave  us  during 
the  years  of  His  earthly  manifestation,  that  which  was  far 
greater — which  was  in  fact  Christianity — He  gave  us  Ilim- 
nclf — Himself  in  His  life,  in  His  death,  in  His  mind,  in  His 
character,  in  His  immortal  life  in  which  He  lives  forever — 
Himself,  with  the  immediate  impression  of  Himself  on  the 
characters  and  memories  of  those  His  friends  and  disciples 
who  stood  immediately  around  Him,  and  who  carried  on  the 
impulse  which  they  derived  from  personal  contact  with  Him. 
But  no  permanent  order  of  ministers  appears  in  that  spiritual 


THE  CLEROY.  179 

kingdom  of  which  He  spoke  on  the  hills  of  Galilee  or  on  the 
slopes  of  Olivet.  The  Twelve  Apostles  whom  He  chose  had 
no  successors  like  themselves.  No  second  Peter,  no  second 
John,  no  second  Paul  stepped  into  the  places  of  those  who 
had  seen  the  Lord  Jesus ;  and  if  their  likenesses  have  been  in 
any  measure  seen  again  in  later  times,  it  has  been  at  long  inter- 
vals, few  and  far  between,  when  great  lights  have  been  raised 
up  to  rekindle  amongst  men  the  expiring  flame  of  truth  and 
goodness  by  extraordinary  gifts  of  genius  or  of  grace.  The 
Seventy  Disciples  that  went  forth  at  the  Lord's  command  into 
the  cities  of  Palestine  were  soon  gathered  to  their  graves,  and 
no  order  of  the  same  kind  or  of  the  same  number  came  in 
their  stead.  They  went  out  once,  and  returned  back  to  their 
Master,  to  go  out  no  more.  The  Church,  the  Christian  Societj', 
existed  in  those  faithful  followers,  even  from  the  beginning, 
and  will  doubtless  last  to  the  very  end.  Wherever,  in  any 
time  or  country,  two  or  three  are  gathered  together  by  a  com- 
mon love  and  faith,  there  will  be  a  Christian  Church.  But 
even  for  years  after  the  Lord's  departure,  such  a  society  exist- 
ed without  a  separate  order  of  clergy.  The  whole  Christian 
brotherhood  was  full  of  life,  and  there  was  as  yet  no  marked 
distinction  between  its  different  portions.  All  were  alike  holy 
— all  were  alike  consecrated.  Therefore  it  is  that  the  institu- 
tion of  the  Christian  ministry  has  never  been  placed  in  any 
ancient  Creed  amongst  the  fundamental  facts  or  doctrines  of 
the  Gospel;  therefore  it  is  that  (in  the  language  of  the  English 
Church)  ordination  is  not  a  sacrament,  because  it  has  no  \'isible 
sign  or  ceremony  ordained  by  Christ  Himself. 

Yet  there  is  another  sense  in  which  the  Christian  ministry 
is  a  gift  of  our  Divine  Master.  It  is  brought  out  in  the 
well-known  passage  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Ephesians:  "When 
He    ascended    up   on   high,   He    led   captivity   captive,    and 

gave  gifts  unto  men And  He  gave  some  to  be 

apostles,  and  some  to  be  prophets,  and  some  to  be  evange- 
lists, and  some  to  be  shepherds  and  teachers."  *  What 
is  it  that  is  meant  by  saying  that  it  was  only  after  His 
withdrawal  from  us,  that  He  giive  these  gifts  to  men,  and  that 
amongst  these  gifts  were  the  ^'arious  offices,  of  which  two  at 

*  Eph.  iv.  8-11. 


180  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

least  (the  pastoral  and  the  intellectual)  contain  the  germs  of 
all  the  future  clergy  of  Christendom  ?  It  is  this — that  not  in 
His  earthly  life,  not  in  His  direct  communion  with  men,  not 
as  part  of  the  original  manifestation  of  Christianity,  but  (so  to 
speak)  as  a  Divine  afterthought,  as  the  result  of  the  complex 
influences  which  were  showered  down  upon  the  earth  after  its 
Founder  had  left  it,  as  a  part  of  the  vast  machinery  of  Chris- 
tian civilization,  were  the  various  professions  of  Christendom 
formed,  and  amongst  these  the  great  vocation  of  the  Christian 
ministry. 

The  various  grades  of  the  Christian  clergy  have  sprung  up 
in  Christian  society  in  the  same  ways,  and  by  the  same  divine, 
because  the  same  natural,  necessity,  as  the  various  grades  of 
government,  law,  and  science — a  necessity  only  more  urgent, 
more  universal,  and  therefore  more  divine,  in  so  far  as  the 
religious  and  intellectual  wants  of  mankind  are  of  a  more  gen- 
eral, of  a  mora  simple,  and  therefore  of  a  more  divine  kind 
than  their  social  and  physical  wants.  All  of  them  vary,  in 
each  age  or  country,  according  to  the  varieties  of  age  and 
country — according  to  the  civil  constitution,  according  to  the 
geographical  area,  according  to  the  climate  and  custom  of 
east  and  west,  north  and  south.  We  find  popular  election, 
clerical  electiorf,  imperial  election,  ministerial  election,  ordina- 
tion by  breathing,  ordination  by  sacred  relics,  ordination  by 
elevation  of  hands,  ordination  hy  imposition  of  hands,  vest- 
ments and  forms  derived  from  Roman  civil  life,  or  from  a 
peculiar  profession  from  this  or  that  school,  of  this  or  that 
fashion — splieres  more  or  less  limited,  a  humblo  country  vil- 
lage, an  academic  cloister,  a  vast  town  population,  or  a  prov- 
ince as  large  as  a  kingdom.  The  enumeration  of  these  varie- 
ties is  not  a  condemnation,  but  a  justification,  of  their  exist- 
ence. The  Christian  clergy  has  grown  with  the  growth  and 
varied  with  the  variations  of  Christian  society,  and  the  more 
complex,  the  more  removed  from  the  rudeness  and  simplicity 
of  the  early  ages,  the  more  likely  they  are  to  be  in  accordance 
with  truth  and  reason,  which  is  the  mind  of  Christ. 

This,  therefore,  is  the  divine  and  the  human  side  of  the 
Christian  ministry.  Divine,  because  it  belongs  to  the  inevitable 
growth  of  Christian  hopes  and  sympathies,  of  increasing  truth, 
of  enlarging  charity.     Human,  because  it  arose  out  of,  and  is 


TEE  CLERGY.  181 

subject  to,  the  vicissitudes  of  human  passions,  human  ignor- 
ance, human  infirmities,  earthly  opportunities.  In  so  far  as  it 
has  a  permanent  and  divine  character,  it  has  a  pledge  of  im- 
mortal existence,  so  long  as  Christian  society  exists  with  its 
peculiar  wants  and  aspirations;  in  so  far  as  it  has  a  human 
character,  it  seeks  to  accommodate  itself  to  the  wants  of  each 
successive  age,  and  needing  the  support,  and  the  sympathy, 
and  the  favor,  of  all  the  other  elements  of  social  intercourse  by 
which  it  is  surrounded.  It  has  been  at  times  so  degraded  that 
it  has  become  the  enemy  of  all  progress,  it  has  been  at  times 
in  the  forefront  of  civihzation. 


182  CHBISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE    POPE. 

Three  hundred  years  ago  there  were  three  official  person- 
ages in  Europe  of  supreme  historical  interest,  of  whom  one  is 
gone,  and  two  survive,  though  in  a  reduced  and  enfeebled 
form. 

The  three  were  the  Emperor  of  the  Holy  Roman  Empire, 
the  Pope  of  Rome,  and  the  Sultan  of  Constantinople.  They 
were  alike  in  this,  that  they  combined  a  direct  descent  of 
association  from  the  old  classical  world  with  an  important 
position  in  the  modern  world, — a  high  secular  with  a  high 
ecclesiastical  position, — a  strong  political  influence  with  a  per- 
sonal authority  of  an  exceptional  kind. 

The  Emperor  of  the  Holy  Roman  Empire  was  the  greatest 
sovereign  in  Europe.  He  was,  in  fact,  properly  speaking,  the 
Emperor  of  only  sovereign  of  Europe.  Other  kings  and  princes 
Eoman^^Em-  '^^^'^^i  ^'^  strict  parlance,  his  deputies.  He  was  the 
pire.  fountain  of  honor  whence  they  derived  their  titles. 

He  took  precedence  of  them  all.  He  was  the  representative 
of  the  old  Roman  Empire.  In  him,  the  highest  intelligences 
of  the  time  saw  the  representative  of  order,  the  counter- 
poise of  individual  tyranny,  the  majesty  at  once  of  Religion 
and  of  Law.  No  other  single  potentate  so  completely  sug- 
gested the  idea  of  Christendom  as  a  united  body.  No 
throne  in  Europe  presented  in  its  individual  rulers  person- 
ages of  grander  character,  or  at  least  of  grander  power  than 
the  Empire  could  boast  in  Charlemagne,  Frederick  Bar- 
barossa,  Frederick  H.,  and  Charles  V.  Long  before  this  splen- 
did dignitary  passed  away,  his  real  power  was  gone,  and  Vol- 
taire had  truly  declared  of  him  that  there  was  in  him  "  nothing 
Holy,  nothing  Roman,  and  nothing  Lnperial."  But  it  was  not 
till  our  own  time,  in  1806,  when  the  Holy  Roman  Empire  was 
changed  into  the  Empire  of  Austria,  that  he  finally  disappeared 
from  the  stage  of  human  affairs.     The  Emperor  of  Germany, 


THE  POPE.  183 

as  regards  Germany,  took  the  vacant  place  in  1871,  but  not  as 
regards  Europe. 

The  two  others  remain.  They  in  many  respects  resemble 
each  other  and  their  defunct  brother,  perhaps  in  the  fragility 
of  their  thrones,  certainly  in  the  concentrated  inter- 
est  of  their  historical,  political,  and  religious  posi- 
tion. The  Sultan  perhaps  comprises  in  his  own  person  most 
of  the  original  characteristics  of  the  institution  which  he  repre- 
sents. He  is  at  once  the  representative  of  the  Byzantine 
Caesars  and  the  representative  of  the  last  of  the  Caliphs,  that 
is,  of  the  Prophet  himself.  He  is  the  chief  of  a  mighty  em- 
pire, and  at  the  same  time  the  head  of  a  powerful  and  wide- 
spread religion.  Of  all  the  three,  he  is  the  one  whose  person 
is  invested  with  the  most  inviolable  sanctity.  His  temporal 
dominion  in  Europe  has  almost  vanished.  But  he  still  retains 
"  the  Palaces  and  the  Gardens "  of  the  Bosphorus,  and  his 
ecclesiastical  authority  over  his  co-religionists  remains  undis- 
turbed if  not  undisputed. 

It  is  of  the  third  of  this  august  brotherhood  that  we  pro- 
pose to  speak.  The  Papacy  is  now  passing  through  a  phase 
in  some  degree  resembling  that  of  the  Holy  Roman 
Emperor  in  1806,  and  that  of  the  Sultan  of  Con-  ^  °^^' 
stantinople  at  the  present  moment.  But  its  peculiarities  are 
too  deeply  rooted  in  the  past  to  be  entirely  shaken  by  any 
transitory  change. 

It  is  not  as  an  object  of  attack  or  defence  that  this  great 
dignitary  is  here  discussed,  but  as  a  mine  of  deep  and  curious 
interest-— the  most  ancient  of  all  the  rulers  of  Europe.  He 
presents  many  aspects,  each  one  of  which  might  be  taken  by 
itself  and  viewed  Avithout  prejudice  to  the  others.  Some  of 
these  are  purely  historical.  Others  are  political  and  secular. 
Others  involve  questions  reaching  into  difficult  problems  of 
religion  and  theology.  They  may  be  briefly  enumerated 
thus: 

The  Pope  may  be  considered — I.  As  the  representative  of 
the  customs  of  Christian  antiquity;  II.  As  the  representative 
of  the  ancient  Roman  Empire ;  HI.  As  an  Italian  Bishop  and 
Italian  Prince ;  IV.  As  "  the  Pope,"  or  chief  oracle  of  Chris- 
tendom ;  V.  As  the  head  of  the  ecclesiastical  profession ;  VI. 
As  an  element  in  the  future  arrangements  of  Christendom. 


184  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

I.  The  Pope  is  a  representative  of  Christian  antiquity.  In 
The  Pope  as  ^^^^^  respect  he  is  a  perfect  museum  of  ecclesiastical 
the  repre-  curiosities — a  mass,  if  we  wish  so  to  regard  him, 
Christian  °  of  latent  primitive  Protestantism.  In  him,  from 
antiquity.  the  high  dignity  and  tenaciously  conservative  ten- 
dencies of  the  office,  customs  endured  which  everywhere  else 
perished. 

The  public  entrance  of  that  great  personage  into  one  of  the 
Roman  churches,  at  the  time  when  such  processions  were 
allowed  by  ecclesiastical  authority,  can  never  be  forgotten. 
Borne  aloft  above  the  surface  of  the  crowd — seen  from  head  to 
foot — the  peacock  fans  waving  behind  him — the  movement  of 
the  hand  alone  indicating  that  it  is  a  living  person,  and  not  a 
waxen  figure — he  completely  represented  the  identification  of 
the  person  with  the  institution;  he  gave  the  impression  that 
there  alone  was  an  office  which  carried  the  mind  back  to  the 
times,  as  Lord  Macaulay  says,  when  tigers  and  camelopards 
bounded  in  the  Flavian  amphitheatre. 

1.  Take  his  ordinary  dress.  He  always  appears  in  a  white 
gown.  He  is,  according  to  a  well-known  Roman  proverb, 
"  the  White  Pope,"  in  contradistinction  to  the  more 
formidable  "  Black  Pope,"  the  General  of  the  order 
of  the  Jesuits,  who  wears  a  black  robe.  This  white  dress  is 
the  white  frock  of  the  early  Christians,*  such  as  we  see  in  the 
oldest  mosaics,  before  the  difference  between  lay  and  clerical 
costume  had  sprung  up,  not  the  "  surplice "  of  the  Church  of 
England,  nor  the  "  white  linen  robe  "  of  the  Jewish  priest,  but 
the  common  classical  dress  of  all  ranks  in  Roman  society.  To 
this  common  wliite  garb  the  early  Christians  adhered  with 
more  than  usual  tenacity,  partly  to  indicate  their  cheerful, 
festive  character,  as  distinct  from  mourners  who  went  in  black, 
partly  to  mark  their  separation  from  the  peculiar  black  dress 
of  the  philosophical  sects  with  which  they  were  often  con- 
founded. The  Pope  thus  carries  on  the  recollection  of  an  age 
when  there  was  no  visible  distinction  between  the  clergy  and 
laity ;  lie  shows,  at  any  rate,  in  his  own  person,  the  often 
repeated  but  often  forgotten  fact,  that  all  ecclesiastical  costumes 
have  originated  in  the  common  dress  of  the  time,  and  been 

*  Qerbet,  Rome  Chrdtienne,  iL  44. 


i 


THE  POPE.  185 

merely  perpetuated  in  the  clergy,  or  in  this  case  in  the  head  of 
the  clergy,  from  their  longer  adherence  to  ancient  habits. 

2.  Take  his  postures.  At  the  reception  of  the  Holy  Com- 
munion, whilst  others  kneel,  his  proper  attitude  is  that  of 
sitting;  and,  although  it  has  been  altered  of  late  Hispos- 
years,  he  still  so  stands  as  to  give  the  appearance  of  tures. 
sitting.*  It  is  possible  that  this  may  have  been  continued  out 
of  deference  to  his  superior  dignity ;  but  it  is  generally  believed, 
and  it  is  very  probable,  that  in  that  attitude  he  preserves  the 
tradition  of  the  primitive  posture  of  the  early  Christians,  who 
partook  of  the  Holy  Supper  in  the  usual  attitude  of  guests  at 
a  meal — recumbent  or  sitting,  as  the  case  might  be.  This  has 
now  been  exchanged  throughout  a  large  part  of  Christendom 
for  a  more  devotional  attitude, — in  the  East  for  standing,  in 
the  West  for  kneeling.  The  Pope  still  retains  in  jDart  or  in 
whole  the  posture  of  the  first  Apostles ;  and  in  this  he  is  fol- 
lowed by  the  Presbyterians  of  Scotland  and  the  Non-conformists 
of  England,  who  endeavor  by  this  act  to  return  to  that  which, 
in  the  Pope  himself,  has  never  been  entirely  abandoned.  It 
brings  before  us  the  ancient  days  when  the  Sacrament  was  still 
a  supper,  when  the  communicants  were  still  guests,  when  the 
altar  was  still  a  table. 

3.  This  leads  us  to  another  custom  retained  in  the  Pope 
from  the  same  early  time.  The  Pope,  when  he  celebrates 
mass  in  his  own  cathedral  of  St.  John  Lateran,  cele- 

brates  it,  not  on  a  structure  of  marble  or  stone,  such 
as  elsewhere  constitutes  the  altars  of  Roman  Catholic  churches, 
but  on  a  wooden  plank,  said  to  be  part  of  the  table  on  which 
St.  Peter  in  the  house  of  Pudens  consecrated  the  first  com- 
munion in  Rome.  This  primitive  wooden  table — the  mark  of 
the  original  social  character  of  the  Lord's  Supper — has  been 
preserved  throughout  the  East;  and  in  most  Protestant 
Churches,  including  the  Church  of  England,  was  restored  at 
the  Reformation.  But  it  is  interesting  to  find  this  indisputa- 
ble proof  of  its  antiquity  and  catholicity  preserved  in  the  very 
heart  of  the  see  of  Rome.  Some  persons  have  been  taught  to 
regard  stone  altars  as  identical  with  Popery ;  some  to  regard 
them  as  necessary  for  Christian  worship.     The  Pope,  by  this 

*  See  note  at  the  eud  uf  the  chapter. 


186  CHBI8TIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

usage  of  the  old  wooden  table,  equally  contradicts  both.  The 
real  change  from  wood  to  stone  was  occasioned  in  the  first 
instance,  not  by  the  substitution  of  the  idea  of  an  altar  for  a 
table,  but  by  the  substitution  of  a  tomb,  containing  the  relics 
of  a  martyr,  for  both  altar  and  table. 

4.  Again,  when  the  Pope  celebrates  mass,  he  stands,  not 
with  his  back  to  the  people,  nor  at  the  north  end,  nor  at  the 

northwest  side,  of  the  table,  but  behind  it  with  his 
back  to  the  wall,  and  facing  the  congregation. 
This  is  the  exact  reverse  of  the  position  of  the  Roman  Catholic 
clergy  generally,  and  of  those  who  would  wish  especially  to 
imitate  them.  It  much  more  nearly  resembles  the  position  of 
Presbyterian  and  Non-conformist  ministers  at  the  time  of  the 
Holy  Communion,  when  they  stand  at  one  side  of  the  table, 
facing  the  congregation,  who  are  on  the  other  side.  It  was 
the  almost  necessary  consequence  of  the  arrangement  of  the 
original  Basilica,  where  the  altar  stood,  not  at  the  cast  end,  but 
in  the  middle  of  the  building,  the  central  point  between  clergy 
and  laity.  It  represents,  of  course,  what  must  have  been  the 
position  in  the  original  institution  as  seen  in  pictures  of  the 
Last  Supper.  It  is  also  the  position  which  prevailed  in  the 
Church  of  England  for  the  first  hundred  years  after  the  Refor- 
mation, and  till  some  years  after  the  Restoration,  and  is  still 
directly  enjoined  in  the  rubrics  of  the  English  Prayer  Book. 
The  position  of  a  Presbyterian  minister  at  the  time  of  the  cel- 
ebration of  the  Lord's  Supper,  either  as  he  stands  in  the  pul- 
pit, or  when  descending  he  takes  his  place  behind  the  table, 
wiih  his  elders  around  him,  precisely  resembles  the  attitude  of 
an  early  Christian  bishop  surrounded  by  his  presbyters.* 

Ilere  again  Protestantism,  or,  if  wo  prefer  to  call  it  so,  prim- 
itive Christianity,  appears  in  the  Pope,  when  it  has  perished 
on  all  sides  of  him. 

5.  Another  peculiarity  of  the  Pope's  celebration  of  mass 
gives  us  a  glimpse  into  a  phase  of  the  early  Church  which  is 
His  Ian-  li'ghly  instructive.  The  Gospel  and  Epistle  are  read 
guage.  |)oth  in  Greek  and  Latin.  This  is  a  vestige  doubt- 
less of  the  early  condition  of  the  first  Roman  Church,  which, 
as  Dean  Milman  has  well  pointed  out,  was  not  an  Italian  but  a 

•  See  Chapter  IX. 


TEE  POPE.  187 

Greek  community — the  community  to  which,  as  being  Greek 
and  Oriental,  St.  Paul  wrote,  not  in  Latin  hut  in  Greek ;  the 
community  of  which  the  first  teachers — Clement  and  Hennas — 
wrote,  not  in  Latin  but  in  Greek.  It  preserves  the  curious  and 
instructive  fact  that  the  chief  of  Latin  Christendom  was  origi- 
nally not  an  "  Italian  priest  "  but  an  alien  ;  a  Greek  in  language, 
an  Oriental  in  race.  It  gives  us  an  insight  into  the  foreign 
elements  out  of  which  the  early  Western  Churches  everywhere 
were  formed.  It  is,  in  fact,  a  remnant  of  a  state  of  things  not 
later  than  the  third  century.  Before  that  time  the  sacred 
language  of  the  Roman  Church  was  Greek.  After  that  time, 
Greek  gave  way  to  Latin,  and  by  the  fifth  century  the  Roman 
clergy  were  not  even  able  to  understand  the  tongue  which  to 
their  forefathers  in  the  faith  had  been  sacred  and  liturgical, 
whilst  the  language  of  the  "  Vulgate"  and  the  "  Canon  of  the 
Mass  "  was  still  profane.* 

6.  Again,  in  the  Pope's  private  chapel,  and  on  all  occasions 
when  the  Pope  himself  officiates,  there  is  a  total  absence  of 
instrumental  music.     This,  too,  is  a  continuation  of  „. 

.       .  xllS  SGrVlCG 

the  barbaric  simplicity  of  the  early  Christian  service. 
The  Roman  Catholic  ritual,  as  well  as  that  of  the  Protestant 
Churches  of  Holland,  Germany,  France,  Switzerland,  and  Eng- 
land, have  joined  in  defying  this  venerable  precedent.  In  two 
branches  only  of  the  Church  outside  the  Pope's  chapel  it  still 
lingers',  namely,  in  the  Avorship  of  the  Eastern  churches  and  in 
some  of  the  Presbyterian  Churches  of  Scotland.  At  Moscow 
and  at  Glasgow  still  there  are  places  where  the  sound  of  an 
organ  would  be  regarded  as  a  blast  from  the  Seven  Hills.  But, 
in  fact,  the  Pope  himself  is  on  this  point  a  Greek  and  a  Pres- 
byterian, and  in  this  refusal  of  the  accompaniments  of  the 
sublime  arts  of  modern  music,  is  at  one  with  those  who  have 
thrown  ofE  his  allegiance  and  protest  against  the  practices  of 
those  who  have  accepted  it. 

7.  Again,  alone  of  all  great  ecclesiastics  of  his  Church,  he 
has  no  crosier,  except  a  small  temporary  silver  one  at  ordina- 
tions. The  simple  reason  of  this  is,  that  being  The  absence 
borne  aloft  on  the  shoulders  of  his  guards,  and  thus  of  a  crosier. 
not  being  obliged  to  walk  like  other  ecclesiastics,  ho  has  no 

*  Bossl,  Eoma  Sotter,  ii.  237. 


188  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

need  of  a  "walking-stick.  This  at  once  reveals  the  origin  of  the 
formidable  crosier, — not  the  symbol  of  the  priesthood  against 
the  state, — not  even  the  crook  of  the  pastor  over  liis  flock,  but 
simply  the  walking-stick,  the  staff  of  the  old  man,  of  the  pres- 
byter, such  as  appears  in  the  ancient  drama  of  Greece  and 
Rome,  and  in  the  famous  riddle  of  CEdipus.  It  puts  in  a 
vivid  form  the  saying  of  Pius  VII.  to  a  scrupulous  Protestant, 
"  Surely  the  blessing  of  an  old  man  will  do  you  no  harm."  The 
crosier  was  the  symbol  of  old  age,  and  of  nothing  besides.* 

These  instances  might  be  multiplied :  but  they  arc  sufficient 
to  show  the  interest  of  the  subject.  They  show  how  we  find 
agreements  and  differences  where  we  least  expect  it — how 
innocent  and  insignificant  are  some  of  the  ceremonies  to  which 
we  attach  most  importance — how  totally  different  was  the 
primitive  state,  even  of  the  Roman  Church,  to  that  which  now 
prevails  both  in  Roman  Catholic  and  Protestant  countries. 
They  are  lessons  of  charity  and  of  wisdom — of  caution  and  of 
forbearance.  In  these  respects  the  Pope  has  acted  merely  as 
the  shoal  which,  like  the  island  in  his  own  Tiber,  has  arrested 
the  straws  of  former  ages,  as  they  floated  down  the  stream  of 
time. 

II.  These  usages  belong  to  him  as  a  Christian  pastor,  and 

are   the  relics  of   Christian   antiquity.     But  there  are  others 

.  which  reveal  him  to  us  in  another  aspect,  and  which 
SuccGSsor  01 

theEmper-  have  drifted  down  through  another  channel.  No 
°^^"  saying   of  ecclesiastical   history   is  more   pregnant 

than  that  in  which  Ilobbes  declares  that  "  the  Pope  is  the 
ghost  of  the  deceased  Roman  Empire,  sitting  crowned  upon 
the  grave  thereof."  This  is  the  true  original  basis  of  his  dig- 
nity and  power,  and  it  appears  even  in  the  minutest  details. 

If  he  were  to  be  regarded  only  as  the  successor  of  St.  Peter, 
his  chief  original  seat  would,  of  course,  be  in  the  Basilica  of 
St.  Peter,  over  the  Apostle's  grave.     But  this  is  not  the  case. 

*  This  absence  of  the  crosier  has  naturally  fjiven  birth  to  a  brood  of  false 
symbolical  explanations  such  as  have  encompasseil  all  these  fimple  observ- 
ances. The  lesrend  is,  that  the  Pope  lost  the  crosier  because  St.  Peter  sent 
his  staff  to  raise  from  the  dead  a  disciple  at  Treves.  This  disciple  afterwards 
became  Bishop  of  Treves:  and  the  Pope  therefore,  when  he  enters  the  diocese 
of  Treves,  is  beli(!ved  on  that  occasion  to  carry  the  crosier.  (St  Thomas 
Aqtiinas,  Opp.  vol.  xiii.  43  )  Another  explanation  Is,  that  the  curve  of  the 
crook  indicates  a  restraint  of  the  episcopal  power,  and  that,  as  the  Pope  has 
no  restraint,  therefore  he  has  no  crook.    (Ibid.) 


TEE  POPE.  18Q 

St.  Peter's  cTiurch,  in  regard  to  the  Pope,  is  merely  a  chapel  of 
gigantic  proportions  attached  to  the  later  residence  which  the 
Pope  adopted  under  the  Vatican  Hill.  The  present  ma<^nifi- 
cent  church  was  erected  to  be  the  mausoleum  of  JuUus  IL,  of 
which  one  fragment  only — the  statue  of  Moses — remains.  The 
Pope's  proper  see  and  Cathedral  is  the  Basilica  of  St.  John  "  in 
the  Lateran  " — that  is,  in  the  Lateran  palace  which  was  the 
real  and  only  bequest  of  Constantine  to  the  Roman  Bishop.  It 
had  been  the  palace  of  the  Lateran  family.  From  them  it 
passed  to  the  Imperial  dynasty.  In  it  the  Empress  Fausta, 
wife  of  Constantine,  usually  lived.  In  it,  after  Constantino's 
departure  to  Constantinople,  the  Roman  Bishop  dwelt  as  a 
great  Roman  noble.  In  it  accordingly  is  the  true  Pontifical 
throne,  on  the  platform  of  which  are  written  the  words  Ilcec 
est  papalis  sedes  et  pontiJicaUs.  Over  its  front  is  inscribed  the 
decree,  Papal  and  Imperial,  declaring  it  to  be  the  mother  and 
mistress  of  all  churches.  In  it  he  takes  possession  oi  the  See 
of  Rome,  and  of  the  government  of  the  Pontifical  States. 

Although  the  story  of  Constantino's  abdication  to  Pope 
Sylvester  is  one  of  the  fables  of  the  Papacy,  yet  it  has  in  it 
this  truth — that  by  the  retirement  of  the  Emperors  to  the 
East,  they  left  Rome  without  a  head,  and  that  vacant  place 
was  naturally  and  imperceptibly  filled  by  the  chief  of  the 
rising  community.  To  him  the  splendor  and  the  attributes, 
which  properly  belonged  to  the  Emperor,  were  unconsciously 
transferred. 

Here,  as  in  the  case  of  ecclesiastical  usages,  we  trace  it  in 
the  small  details  which  have  lingered  in  him  when  they  have 
perished  elsewhere.  The  chair  of  state,  the  sella  gestatoria^ 
in  which  the  Pope  is  borne  aloft,  is  the  ancient  palanquin  of 
the  Roman  nobles,  and,  of  course,  of  the  Roman  Princes. 
The  red  slippers  which  he  wears  are  the  red  shoes,  carnpagines, 
of  the  Roman  Emperor.  The  kiss  which  the  faithful  imprint 
on  those  shoes  is  the  descendant  of  the  kiss  first  imprinted  on 
the  foot  of  the  Emperor  Caligula,  who  introduced  it  from 
Persia.  The  fans  which  go  behind  him  are  the  punkahs  of 
the  Eastern  Emperors,  borrowed  from  the  court  of  Persia. 

The  name  by  which  his  highest  ecclesiastical  character  is 
indicated  is  derived,  not  from  the  Jewish  High  Priest,  but 
from  the  Roman   Emperor.      The  Latinized  version  of  the 


190  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

Jewish  High  Priest  was  "  Summus  Saccrdos."  But  the  Pop© 
is  "Pontifex  Maximus,"  and  the  "Pontifex  Maxitnus"  was 
a  well-known  and  recognized  personage  in  the  eyes  of  the 
Roman  population,  long  before  they  had  ever  heard  of  the 
race  of  Aaron  or  of  Caiaphas.*  lie  was  the  High  Pagan 
dignitary  who  lived  in  a  public  residence  at  the  northeast 
corner  of  the  Palatine,  the  chief  of  the  college  of  "Pontiffs" 
or  "  Bridge-makers."  It  was  his  duty  to  conduct  all  public 
sacrifices,  to  scourge  to  death  any  one  who  insulted  the  Vestal 
Virgins,  to  preside  at  the  assemblies  and  games,  to  he  present 
at  the  religious  ceremony  of  any  solemn  marriage,  and  to 
arrange  the  calendar.  His  office  was  combined  with  many 
great  secular  posts,  and  thus  was  at  last  held  by  the  most 
illustrious  of  the  sons  of  Rome.  It  was  by  virtue  of  his  pon- 
tificate that  Julius  Ca3sar  in  his  pontifical  residence  enabled 
Clodius  to  penetrate  into  the  convent  of  the  Vestals  close  by. 
It  is  to  the  pontificate,  not  to  the  sovereignty  of  Julius  Caesar, 
that  we  owe  the  Julian  calendar. j-  From  him  it  descended  to 
the  Emperors,  his  successors,  and  from  them  to  the  Popes. 
The  two  are  brought  together  in  the  most  startling  form  on 
the  pedestal  of  the  obelisk  on  the  Monte  Citorio.  On.  one  side 
is  the  original  dedication  of  it  by  Augustus  Csesar,  "Pontifex 
Maximus,"  to  the  Sun;  on  the  other,  by  Pius  VI.,  "Pontifex 
Maximus,"  to  Christ.  When  Bishop  Dupanloup,  in  a  pamphlet 
on  "  L'Atheisme  ct  Ic  Peril  Social,"  described  the  desertion  of 
the  Holy  Father  by  the  late  Emjperor  of  France,  it  was  more 
appropriate  than  ho  thought  when  he  said,  "The  Grand  Pon- 
tiff covers  his  face  with  his  mantle,  and  says  ^£!t  tu  filV  "  It 
was  a  Grand  Pontiff  who  so  covered  his  face,  and  who  so  ex- 
claimed :  but  that  Pontiff  was  Julius  Csesar,  to  whose  office 
the  Pope  has  directly  succeeded. 

This  is  more  than  a  mere  resemblance  of  words.  It  brings 
before  us  the  fact  that  the  groundwork  of  the  Pope's  power 
is  secular — secular,  no  doubt,  in  its  grand  sense,  resting  on  the 


*  It  is  perhaps  doubtful  how  far  the  word  was  confined  to  the  Bishops  of 
Rome.  But  the  evidence  is  in  favor  of  its  having  been  appropriated  to  them 
in  the  first  instance. 

t  For  its  Pagan  origin,  see  Rossi,  ii.  306.  But  is  it  (as  he  says)  only  from  the 
Renaissance?  Tertullian  applied  it  ironically  in  the  third  century,  and  it 
would  appear  that  it  was  used  as  a  date  from  the  fourth  century,  instead  of 
the  Consulship.    (See  Mabillon,  and  Theiner,  Codex  Diplomat icua.) 


TEE  POPE.  191 

prestige  of  ages,  but  still  a  power  of  this  world,  and  supported 
always  by  weapons  of  this  world. 

He  held,  and  holds,  his  rank  amongst  the  bishops  of  Chris- 
tendom, as  the  Bishop  of  the  Imperial  City,  as  the  magistrate 
of  that  Imperial  City  when  the  Emperors  left  it.  So,  and  for 
the  same  reason,  Constantinople  was  the  second  sec ;  so,  and 
for  the  same  reason,  Csesarea,  as  the  seat  of  the  Roman  gov- 
ernment, not  Jerusalem,  was  the  seat  of  the  Metropolitan  of 
Palestine. 

The  secular  origin  of  the  primacy  of  Rome  belongs,  in  fact, 
to  the  secular  origin  of  much  beside  in  the  early  customs  of 
the  Church,  illustrating  and  illustrated  by  them.  Tiie  first 
church  was  a  "basilica,"  not  a  temple,  but  a  Roman  court  of 
justice,  accommodated  to  the  purposes  of  Christian  worship.* 
The  word  "  bishop,"  episcopus,  was  taken,  not  from  any  usage 
of  the  Temple  or  of  the  Synagogue,  but  from  the  officers 
created  in  the  different  subject-towns  of  Athens;  "  borrowed," 
as  Hooker  says,  "from  the  Grecians."  The  secular  origin 
of  the  "holy  orders"  and  "ordination"  f  have  been  already 
indicated.  The  word  and  idea  of  a  ^^ diocese"  was  taken  from 
the  existing  divisions  of  the  empire.  The  orientation  of 
churches  is  from  the  rites  of  Etruscan  augury.  The  whole 
ecclesiastical  ceremonialism  is,  according  to  some  etymologists, 
the  bequest  of  Ccere,  the  sacred  city  of  the  Etruscans.  The 
first  figures  of  winged  angels  are  Etruscan.  The  officiating 
bishop  at  ordinations  in  St.  John  Lateran  washes  his  hands 
with  medulla  panis  according  to  the  usage  of  ancient  Roman 
banquets.  Of  all  these  Christian  usages  of  secular  and  Pagan 
origin,  the  Pope  is  the  most  remarkable  example — a  constant 
witness  to  the  earthly  origin  of  his  own  greatness,  but  aI>o, 
which  is  of  more  general  importance,  to  the  indistinguishable 
union  of  things  ecclesiastical  and  things  civil,  and  here,  as  in 
the  case  of  the  more  purely  ecclesiastical  customs,  the  investi- 
gation of  his  position  shows  on  the  one  hand  the  historical 
interest,  on  the  other  the  religious  insignificance,  of  much 
which  now  excites  such  vehement  enthusijipm,  both  of  love 
and  of  hatred. 

*  See  Chapter  IX. 

t  As  late  as  the  sixth  century  Gregory  the  Great  uses  "ordo"  for  the  civil 
magistrate,  and  "  clerus  "  for  the  clergy.  (Dictionary  of  Christia7i  Antiqui 
ties,  ii.  140-149.; 


193  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

III.  Following  up  this  aspect  of  the  Pope's  position,  we 
arrive  at  his  character  as  an  Italian  Bishop  and  an  Italian 
As  Italian  Prince.  Both  go  together.  These  belong  to  the 
prince.  gtate  of  things  at  the  beginning  of   the    Middle 

Ages,  out  of  which  his  power  was  formed.  His  more  general 
and  universal  attributes  are  derived  from  other  considerations 
which  must  be  treated  apart.  But  his  Italian  nationality  and 
Ids  Italian  principality  are  the  natural  result  of  a  condition  of 
society  which  has  long  since  perished  everywhere  else.  The 
Pope's  "temporal  power"  belongs  to  that  feudal  and  princely 
character  which  was  shared  by  so  many  great  prelates  of  the 
Middle  Ages.  Almost  all  the  German  Archbishops  possessed 
this  special  kind  of  sovereignty,  and  in  our  own  country  the 
Bishops  of  Durham.  The  Archbishops  of  Cologne  were 
Princes  and  Electors  more  than  they  were  Archbishops.  In 
the  portraits  of  the  last  of  the  dynasty  in  the  palace  at  Briihl, 
near  Bonn,  for  one  which  represents  him  as  an  ecclesiastic, 
there  are  ten  which  represent  him  as  a  prince  or  as  a  soldier. 
Of  all  those  potentates,  the  Pope  is  almost  the  only  one  who 
remains.  His  principality  is  now  regarded  as  an  anomaly  by 
some  or  as  a  miracle  by  others.  Bat  when  it  first  existed,  it 
was  one  of  a  large  group  of  sirtlilar  principalities.  When, 
therefore,  the  Pope  stood  defended  by  his  Chassepot  rifles,  or, 
in  his  reduced  state,  still  surrounded  by  his  Swiss  guards,  he 
must  be  regarded  as  the  last  of  the  brotherhood  of  the  fight- 
ing, turbulent,  courtly  prelates  of  the  Rhine,  of  the  Prince 
Bishop  of  Durham,  or  the  Ducal  Bishop  of  Osnaburgh.  His 
dynasty  through  its  long  course  has  partaken  of  the  usual 
variations  of  character  which  appear  in  all  the  other  Italian 
principalities.  Its  accessions  of  property  have  come  in  like 
manner;  sometimes  by  the  sword,  as  of  Julius  IT. ;  sometimes 
by  the  donations  of  the  great  Countess  Matilda;  sometimes 
by  the  donations  of  Joanna,  the  questionable  Queen  of  Naples. 
Like  the  other  mediaeval  prelates,  the  Popes  had  their  hounds, 
and  hunted  even  down  till  the  time  of  Pius  VI.  Mariana,  on 
the  road  to  Ostia,  was  a  famous  hunting-seat  of  Leo  X. 

If  the  Pope  were  essentially  what  he  is  sometimes  believed 
to  be,  the  universal  Bishop  of  the  universal  Church,  we  should 
expect  to  find  the  accompaniments  of  his  office  corresponding 
to  this.     But,  in  fact,  it  is  far  otherwise.     In  most  of  the  con- 


THE  POPE.  193 

ditions  of  his  office,  the  Italian  Bishop  and  the  Italian  Prince 
are  the  first  objects  of  consideration.  That  the  first  prelate 
of  the  West  should  have  been,  as  we  have  seen,  the  Bishop  of 
the  old  Imperial  city,  was  natural  enough.  But  it  is  some- 
what startling  to  find  that  the  second  prelate  of  the  West  is 
not  one  of  the  great  hierarchy  of  France,  or  Germany,  or 
Spain,  or  England,  but  the  Bishop  of  the  deserted  Ostia — 
because  Ostia  is  the  second  see  in  the  Roman  States.  It  is  he 
— with  the  Bishops  of  Portus  and  Sabina — who  crowns  and 
anomts  the  Pope.  It  is  he  who  is  the  Dean  of  the  Sacred 
College. 

And  this  runs  throughout.  The  electors  to  the  office  of  the 
Pope,  whether  in  early  days  or  now,  were  not,  and  are  not, 
the  universal  Church,  but  Romans  or  Italians.*  In  early  days 
it  was  in  the  hands  of  the  populace  of  the  city  of  Rome. 
From  the  fourth  to  the  eleventh  century  it  was  accompanied 
by  the  usual  arts  of  bribery,  fraud,  and  occasionally  bloodshed. 
Afterwards  it  was  shared  with  the '  civil  authorities  of  the 
Roman  municipality  ;  and  so  deeply  was  this,  till  lately,  rooted 
in  the  institution,  that,  on  the  death  of  a  Pope,  the  Senator 
resumed  his  functions  as  the  supreme  governor  of  the  city.f 

Since  the  twelfth  century  the  election  has  been  vested  in 
the  College  of  Cardinals.  But  the  College  of  Cardinals, 
though  restrained  by  the  veto  of  the  three  Catholic  Powers, 
is  still  predominantly  Italian ;  and  the  result  of  the  election 
has,  since  the  fourth  century,  been  almost  entirely  confined  to 
Italian  Popes.  The  one  great -exception  is  an  exception  which 
proves  the  rule.  During  the  seventy  years  when  the  Popes 
were  at  Avignon,  they  were  there  as  completely  French  as 
before  and  since  they  have  been  Italians ;  and  for  the  same 
reason — because  they  were  French  princes  living  in  a  French 
city,  as  now  and  before  they  were  Italian  princes  living  in  an 
Italian  city. 

The  feudal  sovereignty  over  Naples  was  maintained  by  the 
giving  of  a  white  horse  on  St.  Peter's  day  by  the  king  of 
Naples — down  till  the  time  of  Charles  II. ;  the  protest  against 

♦  See  the  accoi.nt  in  Mr.  Cartwright'a  interesting  volume  on  Papal  Con- 
claves, p.  36. 

t  His  long  train  at  mass  is  carried  (amongst  others)  by  the  Senator  of  Rome 
and  the  Prince  "  assisting. "  _  , 

9 


194  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

the  annexation  of  Avignon  by  France  has  been  abandoned 
since  1815. 

Whatever  ingenuity,  whatever  intrigues,  surround  the  elec- 
tion of  a  Pope  are  Italian,  and  of  that  atmosphere  the  whole 
pontifical  dynasty  breathes  from  the  time  it  became  a  princi- 
pality till  (with  the  exception  of  its  exile  in  Provence)  the 
present  time. 

IV.  Then  follow  the  more  general  attributes  of  the  Pope. 
As  "the  He  is  "  the  Pope."  This  title  was  not  originally  his 
Pope."  own.     It  belonged  to  a  time  when  all  teachers  were 

so  called.  It  is  like  some  of  the  other  usages  of  which  we  have 
spoken,  a  relic  of  the  innocent  infantine  simplicity  of  the 
primitive  Church.  Every  teacher  was  then  "  Papay  The 
word  was  then  what  it  is  still  in  English,  the  endearing  name 
of  "  father."  In  the  Eastern  Church,  the  custom  continues 
still.  Every  parish  priest,  every  pastor,  is  there  a  "  Pope,"  a 
"  Papa,"  and  the  ordinary  mode  of  address  in  Russia  is  "  my 
father"  ("  Batinska  ").  Gradually  the  name  became  restricted, 
either  in  use  or  significance.  Just  as  the  Bishops  gradually 
rose  out  of  the  Presbyters,  to  form  a  separate  rank,  so  the 
name  of  "  Pope  "  was  gradually  applied  specially  to  bishops. 
Cyprian,  Bishop  of  Carthage,  in  the  third  century,  was  con- 
stantly entitled  "  Most  glorious  and  blessed  Pope ;"  and  the 
French  bishops,  in  like  manner,  were  called  "  Lord  Pope." 
There  is  a  gate  in  the  Cathedral  of  Le  Puy,  in  Auvergne,  still 
called  the  "  Papal  Gate,"  not  because  of  the  entrance  of  any 
Pope  of  Rome  there,  but  because  of  an  old  inscription  which 
records  the  death  of  one  of  the  bishops  of  Le  Puy  under  the 
name  of  "  Pope."  * 

And  yet,  further,  if  there  was  any  one  Bishop  in  those 
early  times  who  was  peculiarly  invested  with  this  title  above 
tlie  rest,  and  known  emphatically  as  "  the  Pope,"  it  was  not 
the  Bishop  of  Rome,  but  the  Bishop  of  Alexandria.  From 
the  third  century  downwards  he  was  "  the  Pope "  emphati- 
cally beyond  all  others.  Various  reasons  are  assigned  for  this 
honor ;  but,  in  fact,  it  naturally  fell  to  him  as  the  head  of  the 
most  learned  church  in  the  world,  to  whom  all  the  other 
churches  looked  for  advice  and  instruction. 

*  The  name  is  first  applied  to  the  Bishop  of  Rome  in  the  letter  of  a  deacon 
to  Pope  Marcellus,  a.d.  275,  but  it  was  not  till  400  that  they  took  it  formally. 


THE  POPE.  195 

In  the  early  centuries,  if  the  Bishop  of  Rome  had  the  title 
at  all,  it  was  merely  like  other  bishops.  It  was  in  Latin 
properly  only  used  with  the  addition  '■'My  Pope,"*  or  the 
like,  and  this  is  tlie  earliest  known  instance  of  its  application 
to  the  Roman  Pontiff.  It  was  not  till  the  seventh  century 
that  it  became  his  peculiar  designation,  or  rather,  that  dropping 
off  from  all  the  other  western  bishops,  it  remained  fixed  in 
him,  and  was  formally  appropriated  to  its  exclusive  use  in  the 
eleventh.  What  "Papa"  was  in  Greek  and  Latin,  "Abba" 
was  in  Syriac,  and  thus  accordingly  was  preserved  in  "  Abbot" 
"  Abbe,"  as  applied  to  the  heads  of  monastic  communities,  and 
to  the  French  clergy,  almost  as  generally  as  the  word  "  Papa" 
has  been  in  the  Eastern  Church  for  the  parochial  clergy. 

It  is  curious  that  a  word  which  more  than  any  other  recalls 
the  original  equality  not  only  of  Patriarch  with  Bishop,  of 
Bishop  with  Bishop,  but  of  Bishop  with  Presbyter,  should 
have  gradually  become  the  designation  of  the  one  preeminent 
distinction  which  is  the  keystone  of  the  largest  amount  of 
inequality  that  prevails  in  the  Christian  hierarchy. 

It  is  also  to  be  observed  that  a  word  used  to  designate  the 
head  of  the  Latin  Church  should  have  been  derived  from  the 
Greek  and  Eastern  forms  of  Christianity. 

What  is  it  which  constitutes  the  essence  of  this  power  of 
the  Pope  ? 

We  have  already  seen  that  his  dignity  at  Rome  is  inherited 
from  the  Roman  Emperors — his  territory  from  his  position  as 
an  Italian  Prelate.  But  his  power  as  the  Pope  is  supposed  to 
give  him  the  religious  sovereignty  of  the  world. 

It  is  often  supposed  that  he  possesses  this  as  successor  of 
St.  Peter  in  the  see  of  Rome.  This,  however,  is  an  assump- 
tion wMch,  under  any  theory  that  may  be  held  concerning 
his  office,  is  obviously  untenable.  That  St.  Peter  died  at 
Rome  is  probable.  But  it  is  certain  that  he  was  not  the 
founder  of  the  Church  of  Rome.  The  absence  of  an  allusion 
to  such  a  connection  in  St.  Paul's  Epistles  is  decisive.     It  is 


*  "Papa  suus."  "  Papa  meus,"  "  Papa  noster,"  is  the  only  form  in  which  It 
occurs  ill  the  third  and  fourth  centuries,  as  a  term  not  oc  office,  but  of  aflFec- 
tion.  and  meaning  not  a  bishop  but  a  teacher.  (Mahillon,  Vetera  Analecta, 
141.)  So  the  head  of  the  Abyssinian  clergy  is  called  Abouroa,  i.e.,  ''our 
Father." 


196  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

also  certain  that  lie  was  not  Bishop  of  the  Church  of  Rome  or 
of  any  Church.  The  office  of  "  Bishop "  in  the  sense  of  a 
single  officer  presiding  over  the  community  (with  perhaps  the 
exception  of  Jerusalem)  did  not  exist  in  any  Church  till  the 
close  of  the  first  century.  The  word,  as  we  have  seen,  was 
originally  identical  with  the  word  "  Presbyter."  The  alleged 
succession  of  the  early  Roman  Bishops  is  involved  in  contra- 
dictions which  can  only  be  explained  on  the  supposition  that 
there  was  then  no, fixed  Episcopate.  There  is  not  only  no 
shadow  of  an  indication  in  the  New  Testament  that  the 
characteristics  of  Peter  were  to  belong  to  official  successors, 
but  for  the  first  three  centuries  there  is  no  indication,  or  at 
least  no  certain  indication,  that  such  a  belief  existed  any- 
where. It  is  an  imagination  with  no  more  foundation  in  fact 
than  the  supposition  that  the  characteristics  of  St.  John 
descended  to  the  Bishops  of  Ephesus. 

But,  further,  it  is  also  a  curious  fact  that  by  the  theory  of 
the  Roman  Church  itself,  it  is  not  as  Bishop  of  Rome  that  the 
Pope  is  supposed  to  acquire  the  religious  sovereignty  of  the 
world. 

It  is  important  to  observe  by  what  channel  this  is  con- 
veyed. He  becomes  Bishop  of  Rome,  as  all  others  become 
Bishops,  by  regular  consecration.  He  becomes  Sovereign, 
as  all  others  become  Sovereigns,  by  a  regular  inauguration. 
But  he  becomes  Pope,  with  whatever  peculiar  privileges  that 
involves,  by  the  election  of  the  Cardinals ;  and  for  this  purpose 
he  need  not  be  a  clergyman  at  all.  Those  whose  suppose  that 
he  inherits  the  great  powers  of  his  office  by  the  inheritance  of 
an  Episcopal  succession  mistake  the  case.  If  other  Bishops,  as 
some  believe,  derive  their  powers  from  the  Apostles  by  virtue 
of  an  Apostolical  succession,  not  so  the  Pope.  He  may,  at  the 
time  of  his  election,  be  a  layman,  and,  if  duly  elected,  he  may, 
as  a  layman,  exercise,  not  indeed  the  functions  of  a  Bishop, 
but  the  most  significant  functions  which  belong  to  a  Pope. 
The  Episcopal  consecration,  indeed,  must  succeed  as  rapidly  as 
is  convenient.  But  the  Pope  after  his  mere  election  is  com- 
pletely in  the  possession  of  the  headship  of  the  Roman  Catho- 
lic Church,  even  though  it  should  so  happen  that  the  Episcopal 
consecration  never  followed  at  all. 

In  point  of  fact,  the  early  Popes  were  never  chosen  from  the 


THE  POPE.  197 

Bishops,  and  usually  not  from  the  Presbyters,  but  from  the 
Deacons ;  and  the  first  who  was  chosen  from  the  Episcopate 
was  Formosus,  Bishop  of  Portus,  in  891.  Hildebrand  *  was 
not  ordained  priest  till  after  his  election.  He  cannot  even 
exercise  the  right  of  a  Bishop,  unless  by  dispensation  from 
himself,  until  he  has  taken  "possession"  of  the  sovereignty  in 
the  Lateran.  Three  Popes  have  occupied  the  chair  of  St. 
Peter  as  laymen  :  John  XIX.,  or  XX.,f  in  1024;  Adrian  V.,J 
in  1276;  Martin  Y.,  in  1417.  §  Of  these,  the  first  reigned  for 
some  years,  and  was  ordained  or  consecrated  with  the  accus- 
tomed solemnities.  The  third  was  enthroned  as  a  layman,  and 
passed  through  the  grades  of  deacon,  priest,  and  bishop  on 
successive  days.  The  second  reigned  only  for  twenty-nine 
days,  and  died  without  taking  holy  orders.  Yet  in  that  time 
he  had  acquired  all  the  plenitude  of  his  supreme  authority, 
and  had  promulgated  decrees  modifying  the  whole  system  of 
Papal  elections  which  by  his  successors  were  held  to  be 
invested  with  all  the  sacredness  of  Pontifical  utterances.  || 
Since  the  time  of  Urban  YL,  in  1378,  the  rule  has  been  to 
restrict  the  office  of  Pope  to  the  College  of  Cardinals.  But 
this  has  no  higher  sanction  than  custom.  As  late  as  1758, 
votes  were  given  to  one  who  was  not  a  member  of  the  Sacred 
College ;  and  the  election  of  a  layman  even  at  this  day,  would 
be  strictly  canonical.  If  the  lay  element  can  thus  without 
impropriety  intrude  itself  into  the  very  throne  and  centre  of 
ecclesiastical  authority,  and  that  by  the  election  of  a  body 
which  is  itself  not  necessarily  clerical  (for  a  cardinal  is  not  of 
necessity  in  holy  orders),  and  which  till  at  least  the  last  elec- 
tion was  subject  to  lay  influences  of  the  most  powerful  kind 
(for  each  of  the  three  chief  Catholic  sovereigns  had  a  veto  on 
the  appointment),  it  is  clear  that  the  language  commonly  held 
within  the  Roman  Catholic  and  even  Protestant  Churches,  both 
Episcopal  and  Presbyterian,  against  lay  interference  in  spiritual 
matters,  meets  with  a  decisive  check  in  an  unexpected  quarter. 


*  Bona,  i.  189.  t  Planck,  iii.  370. 

X  Adrian  V.  and  Martin  V.  were  "Cardinal  Deacons."  But  this  is  an  oflflce 
which  is  held  by  laymen. 

§  Fleury,  xxi.  472. 

II  See  the  facts  in  Cart-vvright's  Conclaves,  pp.  164,  195.  "  Eo  Ipso  sit  Pontl- 
fex  summus  totius  EcelesisB,  etsi  forte  id  non  exprimant  electores."  (Bellar- 
mine,  De  Rom.  Pont.  ii.  Zi.) 


198  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

If  the  Pope  himself  may  be  a  layman,  and,  as  a  layman,  issue 
Pontifical  decrees  of  the  highest  authority,  he  is  a  witness 
against  all  who  are  disposed  to  confine  the  so-called  spiritual 
powers  of  the  Church  to  the  clerical  or  Episcopal  order. 

Here,  in  this  crucial  case,  the  necessity  of  choosing  "the 
right  man  for  the  right  place"  overrides  all  other  considera- 
tions ;  and  if  it  should  so  happen  that  the  College  of  Cardinals 
became  convinced  that  the  interests  of  the  world  and  of  the 
Church  were  best  served  by  their  choosing  a  philosopher  or  a 
philanthropist,  a  lawyer  or  a  warrior,  to  the  Pontifical  chair, 
there  is  nothing  in  the  constitution  of  the  Roman  see  to  for- 
bid it.  The  electors  of  the  chief  Pontiff  may  be  laymen, — the 
sovereign  of  the  Christian  world  may  be  a  layman.  Whether 
we  regard  this  as  a  relic  of  the  ancient  days  of  the  Church,  in 
which  the  laity  were  supreme  over  the  clergy,  or  as  the  ideal 
towards  which  the  Church  may  be  gradually  tending,  it  is 
equally  a  proof  that  there  is  not,  in  the  nature  of  things  or  in 
the  laws  of  Christendom,  any  such  intrinsic  distinction  be- 
tween the  clergy  and  laity  as  to  give  to  either  an  exclusive 
share  in  matters  spiritual  or  temporal. 

Such  being  the  mode  by  whicli  the  Pope,  as  such,  is  chosen, 
we  next  proceed  to  observe  what  are  the  functions  which,  as 
Pope,  he  is  supposed  to  exercise. 

The  word  "  Pope  "  has  in  common  parlance  passed  with  us 
into  a  synonym  for  "  oracle."  When  we  say  that  such  a  man 
As  an  ora-  is  "  a  Pope  in  his  own  circle,"  or  that  "  every  man 
*^'®-  is  a  Pope  to  himself,"  we  mean  that  he  is  a  person 

whose  word  must  be  taken  at  once  on  any  subject  on  which  he 
may  choose  to  spealc.  There  was,  as  it  happens,  such  an 
oracle  once  believed  to  reside  in  the  Vatican  Hill — where  now 
stands  the  Papal  palace — the  oracle  of  the  god  Faunus;  of 
whom  the  ancient  Latins  came  to  inquire  in  any  difficulty,  and 
received  their  reply  in  dream  o  by  strange  voices.  Such  an 
oracle  the  Pope  is,  by  a  certain  number  of  his  followers,  sup- 
posed to  be.  But  this  has  only  within  the  last  few  years 
become  tlie  doctrine  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  and  many 
of  those  who  maintain  it  confine  the  oracular  power  within  very 
narrow  limits,  which  may  bft  always  narrowed  further  still. 
Ilis  utterances  are  to  be  depended  upon  only  when  tliey  relate 
to  matters  of  faith  and  morals,  and  then  only  when  he  speaks 


THE  POPE.  199 

officially;  and  as  it  will  have  always  to  be  determined  when 
it  is  that  he  speaks  officially,  and  what  matters  are  to  be  con- 
sidered of  faith,  it  is  evident  that  his  oracular  power  may 
be  limited  or  expanded,  exactly  according  to  the  will  of  the 
recipients.*  In  point  of  fact  the  amount  of  light  which  the 
Papal  See  has  communicated  to  the  world  is  not  large,  com- 
pared with  what  has  been  derived  from  other  episcopal  sees, 
or  other  royal  thrones.  There  have  been  occupants  of  the 
Sees  of  Constantinople,  Alexandria,  and  Canterbury,  who 
have  produced  more  effect  on  the  mind  of  Christendom  by 
their  utterances  than  any  of  the  Popes.f  Even  in  the  most 
solemn  Papal  declarations,  such  as  annexing  South  America  to 
Spain,  or  determining  the  canonization  of  particular  saints,  or 
even  in  issuing  such  a  decree  as  that  concerning  the  Immaculate 
Conception,  the  Popes  have  acted  rather  as  the  mouthpieces 
of  others,  or  judges  of  a  tribunal,  than  on  their  own  individ- 
ual responsibility.  Canonizations,  at  least  in  theory,  are  the 
result  of  a  regular  trial.  The  Pope  is  not  supposed  to  ven- 
ture to  declare  any  one  a  canonized  saint  until  he  has  been 
entreated,  "  urgently,  more  urgently,  most  urgently  "  {^instaii- 
ter,  instantius,  instantissime),  by  those  who  have  heard 
the  Devil's  as  well  as  the  saint's  advocate.  The  declaration 
of  the  recent  dogmas  of  1854  and  ISVO  professed  to  be  the 
summing  up  of  a  long  previous  agitation,  and  the  Pope  did 
not  issue  it  till  he  had  asked  the  opinions  of  all  the  Bishops. 
It  is  the  object  of  these  remarks  to  state  facts,  not  to  discuss 
doctrines.  But  the  fact  is  well  worth  observing, — first,  be- 
cause it  shows  how  wide  and  deep  is  the  division  in  the 
Roman  Catholic  Church  on  the  very  question  which,  more 
than  any  other,  distinguishes  it  from  other  Churches;  and, 
secondly,  because  it  shows  how  small  an  amount  of  certainty 
or  security  is  added  to  any  one's  belief  by  resting  it  on  the 
oracular  power  of  the  Pope.  On  most  of  the  great  questions 
which  agitate  men's  minds  at  present,  on  Biblical  criticism, 

♦  A  curious  trace  of  the  individual  character  of  the  Pope  being  maintained 
rather  than  his  ofHcial  character,  is  that  he  signs  his  Bulls  not  by  his  official 
but  his  personal  name,  in  the  barbarous  form,  Placet  Joannes.— Wiseman's 
Four  Popes.  293. 

+  See  Dr.  Newman's  Apologia,  p.  407.  "  The  see  of  Rome  possessed  no  great 
mind  in  the  wliole  period  of  i)ersecution.  Afterwards  for  a  long  while  it  had 
not  a  single  doctor  to  show.  The  great  luminary  of  the  western  world  is  St. 
Augustine:  he,  no  iufaUible  teacher,  has  formed  the  intellect  of  Europe." 


200  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

on  the  authorship  of  the  Sacred  Books,  on  the  duration  of 
future  punishment,  he  has  not  pronounced  any  opinion  at  all ; 
and  on  others,  such  as  the  relations  of  Church  and  State,  of 
the  condition  of  the  working  classes,  of  slavery,  and  the  like, 
the  opinions  he  has  expressed  are  either  so  ambiguous,  or  so 
contradictory,  that  they  are  interpreted  in  exactly  opposite 
senses  by  the  prelates  in  Italy  and  the  prelates  in  Ireland. 
Even  if  it  were  conceded  that  such  an  oracle  exists  at  Rome, 
there  still  is  no  certainty  either  as  to  its  jurisdiction  or  its 
meaning.  Most  of  those  who  have  studied  its  utterances, 
however  they  may  respect  its  venerable  antiquity  and  honor 
its  occasional  wisdom,  will  carry  away  as  their  chief  impres- 
sion its  variations  and  its  failures. 

But  turning  from  this  much-disputed  attribute  of  the  Pope, 
there  is  no  question  in  his  own  communion,  there  is  not  much 
question  out  of  it,  that  he  is  or  till  very  lately  was  one  of  the 
chief  rulers  of  Christendom.  This,  rather  than  his  oracular 
power,  is  the  characteristic  of  his  ofBce  brought  out  by  Greg- 
ory VII  and  Innocent  III.  And  this,  like  so  much  which  we 
have  noticed,  is  a  relic  of  a  state  of  things  that  has  passed 
a\  ay.  It  is  part  of  the  general  framework  of  racdiieval 
Christendom.  There  were  only  two  potentates  of  the  first 
magnitude  at  that  time  —  the  Pope  and  the  Emperor.  The 
kings  were  in  theory  as  much  subject  to  one  as  to  the  other. 
The  Pope  and  the  Emperor,  though  with  inextricable  con- 
fusion in  their  mutual  relations,  were  cast  as  it  were  in  the 
same  mould.  Dante  could  no  more  have  imagined  the  Em- 
peror ceasing  than  the  Pope.  Indeed,  he  would  have  sooner 
spared  the  Pope  than  the  Emperor.  He  sees  no  Pope  (ex- 
cept St.  Peter)  in  paradise  —  no  Emperor  in  hell.  When  the 
Emperor  fell  in  the  fall  of  the  Suabian  dynasty,  the  Pope, 
instead  of  gaining  by  the  destruction  of  his  ancient  enemy, 
was  weakened  also.  They  were  twin  brothers.  They  were 
Siamese  twins.  The  death  of  the  one  involves  the  ultimate 
death  of  the  other,  at  least  in  the  aspect  in  which  they  are 
correlative.  No  king,  except  the  German  princes,  is  now  de- 
pendent on  the  Emperor  of  Germany.  No  king  is  now  de- 
pendent on  the  Pope  of  Rome.  The  monarchy  of  Christen- 
dom has  ceased,  for  all  practical  purposes,  as  certainly  as  the 
monarchy  of  ancient  Rome  ceased  after  the  expulsion  of  the 


THE  POPE.  201 

Tarquins.  But  when  tho  kings  were  driven  out  from  ancient 
Rome,  there  was  still  a  king  kept  up  in  name  to  perform  the 
grand  ceremonial  offices  which  no  one  but  a  person  having 
the  name  of  "king"  or  "Rex"  could  discharge.  The  '''■Rex 
sacrificulus '''' '^  took  precedence  of  all  the  other  functionaries, 
religious  or  secular,  in  the  old  Roman  constitution,  down  to 
the  time  of  Theodosius.  He  lived  on  the  Via  Sacra,  near  the 
palace  of  the  Pontifex  Maximus.  lie  was  the  ghost  of  the 
deceased  Roman  kingdom,  just  as  the  Pope  is  the  ghost  of 
the  deceased  Roman  Empire.  Such  as  he  was  in  regard  to 
the  external  constitution  of  the  Roman  kingdom,  such  the 
Pope  is  in  regard  to  the  external  constitution  of  Western 
Christendom,  He  takes  precedence  still  of  all  the  monarchs 
of  Catholic  Europe.  He  always  dines  alone,  lest  a  question 
of  precedence  should  ever  arise.  The  Papal  Nuncio  is  still 
the  head  of  the  diplomatic  body  in  every  Catholic  country. 
Even  the  Protestant  sovereigns,  on  receiving  a  congratulatory 
address  from  that  body  in  France  or  Spain,  must  receive  it 
from  the  lips  of  the  Nuncio.  The  Pope's  rank  is  thus  an 
interesting  and  venerable  monument  of  an  extinct  world.  His 
outward  magnificence  compared  with  his  inward  weakness  is 
one  of  the  most  frequently  noted  marks  of  his  position  in  the 
world. 

It  is  in  this  capacity  that  he  was  seen  by  Bunyan,  in  the 
cave  where  lay  the  giants  Pope  and  Pagan  —  decrepit,  aged, 
mumbling.  It  has  been  said  that  Peter  has  no  gray  hairs. 
This  is  not  the  verdict  of  histor}^  His  hairs  are  very  gray; 
he  is  not  what  he  once  was.  He  exhibits  the  vicissitudes  of 
history  to  an  extent  almost  beyond  that  of  any  other  sovereign. 

V.  This  leads  us  to  yet  one  more  attribute  of  the  Pope.  Even 

those  who  entirely  repudiate  his  authority  must  still  regard  him 

as  the  chief  ecclesiastic  of  Christendom,     If  there  _,,    „ 

,  ,.  ,,        ,,  iiiT-,-1  The  Pope  as 

IS  such  a  thmg  as  a  body  of  clergy  at  all,  the  Bishop  the  chief 
of  Rome  is  certainly  the  head  of  the  profession.     In  ecclesiastic. 
him  we  see  the  pretensions,  the  merits,  the  demerits  of  the  cler- 
ical office  in  the  most  complete,  perhaps  in  the  most  exagger- 
ated, form.     His  oracular  power  is  only,  to  a  certain  extent, 

*  He  lived  on  the  hill  called  "  Velia."  Next  to  him  came  the  Flamen,  who 
lived  in  the  Flaminian  meadows;  next  the  Pontifex  Maximus,  who  lived  by  the 
Temple  of  Vesta. 


20S  cimisTiAN  iNSTirtiriom. 

claimed  by  the  rest  of  the  clergy.  It  may  not  he,  perhaps, 
avowed  by  any  other  clergyman,  Roman  Catholic  or  Protest- 
ant, often  as  they  may  think  it  or  imply  it,  that  they  are 
infallible,  or  that  they  can  add,  by  their  own  mere  motion, 
new  articles  of  faith.  But  wherever  such  claims  exist,  the 
oflBce  of  the  Pope  is  an  excellent  field  in  which  to  discuss  the 
matter.  The  same  reasons  which  convince  us  that  the  Pope  is 
not  infalHble  may  convince  us  of  the  same  defect  in  regard  to 
the  less  dignified  ecclesiastics.  The  advantages  which  the 
clerical  order  have  conferred  on  Christendom,  and  the  dis- 
advantages, are  also  well  seen  in  the  history  of  the  Popes,  on 
a  large  scale. 

Again,  the  Pope  well  exemplifies  the  true  nature  of  the  much 
confused  terms,  "  spiritual  and  temporal  power."  His  spiritual 
power — that  is,  his  moral  and  intellectual  power  over  the  minds 
and  consciences  of  men — is  very  small.  Even  amongst  Roman 
Catholics,  there  are  very  few  who  really  believe  anything  the 
more  because  the  Pope  says  so ;  and  the  Popes  who  have  been 
authors  of  eminence  are  very  few  and  far  between.  Probably 
few  sees,  as  we  have  said,  in  Christendom  have  really  contrib- 
uted so  little  through  their  personal  occupants  to  the  light  of 
the  world.  No  Pope  has  ever  exercised  the  same  real  amount 
of  spiritual  influence  as  Augustine,  or  Aquinas,  or  Thomas  a 
Kempis,  or  Luther,  or  Erasmus,  or  Shakespeare,  or  Loyola,  or 
Hegel,  or  Ewald. 

But  his  secular  power  over  ecclesiastics  is  very  considerable. 
He  in  many  instances  controls  their  temporal  positions.  His 
tribunals,  whatever  may  be  their  uncertainty  and  caprice,  com- 
pared to  an  English  court  of  justice,  are  still,  to  the  ecclesiasti- 
cal world  of  Roman  Catholic  Christendom,  what  the  Supreme 
Court  of  Appeal  is  to  the  Church  of  England. 

It  is  against  the  exercise  of  this  power  that  Henry  II.  in 
England,  and  St.  Louis*  in  France,  and  Santa  Rosa  in  Piedmont, 
contended.  It  is,  as  a  protection  against  it,  that  the  state  in 
France,  Austria,  Spain,  Italy,  Portugal,  and  virtually  in  Prussia, 
has  retained  the  nomination  of  the  bishops  of  those  countries  in 
its  own  hands,  and  fenced  itself  about  with  concordats  and 
treaties,  against  the  intrusion  of  so  formidable  a  rival     By  this 

♦  See  Lanfrey's  Histoire  Politique  dea  Fapes,  p.  278. 


THE  POPE.  203 

protection  the  Abbot  of  Monte  Casino,  under  tbe  pre.'ent  king- 
dom of  Italy,  enjoys  a  freedom  which  he  with  difficuhy  main- 
tained against  the  Pope,  and  the  Archbishop  of  Paris,  ahnost 
until  he  fell  a  victim  to  the  fanaticism  of  the  Parisian  populace, 
was  upheld  by  the  Emperor  of  the  French. 

VI.  It  has  been  the  purpose  of  these  remarks  to  confine  them 
as  closely  as  possible  to  facts  acknowledged  by  all. 

One  remaining  fact,  however,  also  is  certain,  that  there  is  no 
personage  in  the  world  wliose  ofhce  provokes  such  widely  dif- 
ferent sentiments  as  that  of  the  Pope.  It  was  said  His  mixed 
that  Pius  IX.  had  two  sides  to  his  face — one  malig-  character, 
nant,  the  other  benevolent.  Once,  and  once  only,  the  malig- 
nant side  appeared  in  a  photograph,  which  was  immediately 
suppressed  by  the  police.  Whether  this  is  true  or  not,  it  is  no 
unapt  likeness  of  the  opposite  physiognomy  w'hich  the  Papal 
office  presents  to  the  two  sides  of  the  Christian  world.  To  the 
one  he  appears  as  the  Vicar  of  Christ,  to  the  other  as  Anti- 
christ; to  the  one  as  the  chief  minister  and  representative  of 
the  Holy  and  the  Just,  to  the  other  as  his  chief  enemy.  Nor 
is  this  diversity  of  aspect  diAaded  exactly  according  to  the 
division  of  the  ancient  and  modern  churches.  There  have  been 
members  of  the  Roman  Church,  like  Petrarch,  who  have  seen 
in  the  Papal  city  a  likeness  of  Babylon,  as  clearly  as  Luther  or 
Knox.  There  have  been  Protestants,  like  Arnold  and  Guizot, 
who  have  recognized  in  certain  phases  of  the  Papacy  a  benefi- 
cence of  action  and  a  loftiness  of  design,  as  clearly  as  Bossuet 
and  De  Maistre.  Nay,  even  to  the  same  mind,  at  the  same 
time,  the  office  has  alternately  presented  both  aspects,  as  it  did 
to  Dante.  And  again,  the  Pope,  who,  to  most  Protestants,  ap- 
pears as  the  representative  of  all  that  is  retrograde,  dogmatic, 
and  superstitious,  appears  in  the  eyes  of  the  Eastern  Church  as 
the  first  Rationalist,  the  first  Reformer,  the  first  founder  of  pri- 
vate judgment  and  endless  schism. 

This  diversity  of  sentiment  is  certainly  not  the  least  instruc- 
tive of  the  characteristics  of  the  Papal  office.  Many  causes 
may  have  contributed  towards  it,  but  the  main  and  simple 
cause  is  this, — that  the  Papal  office,  like  many  human  institu- 
tions, is  a  mixture  of  much  good  and  much  evil ;  stained  with 
many  crimes,  adorned  with  many  virtues ;  with  many  peculiar 
temptations,  with  many  precious  opportunities;   to  be  judged 


204  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

calmly,  dispassionately,  charitably,  thoughtfully,  by  all  who 
come  across  it.  So  judged,  its  past  history  will  become  more 
intelligible  and  more  edifying ;  so  judging,  we  may,  perhaps, 
arrive  hereafter  at  some  forecast  of  what  may  be  its  Future  in 
the  present  and  coming  movements  of  the  world. 

It  once  chanced  that  an  English  traveller,  in  a  long  evening 
spent  on  the  heights  of  Monte  Casino,  was  conversing  with  one 
of  the  charming  inmates  of  the  ancient  home  of  St.  Benedict, 
who  was  himself,  like  most  of  his  order  in  Italy,  opposed  to 
the  temporal  power  of  the  Pope.  The  Protestant  Englishman 
ventured  to  ask  the  liberal-minded  Catholic :  "  How  do  you 
forecast  the  possibility  of  the  accomplishment  of  your  wishes 
in  the  face  of  the  steadfast  opposition  of  the  reigning  pontiff 
and  the  long  traditional  policy  of  the  Roman  Court?"  He  re- 
plied, "  I  console  myself  by  looking  bdck  at  the  history  of  the 
Papacy.  I  remember  that  St.  Peter  came  to  Rome  a  humble 
fisherman,  Avithout  power,  without  learning,  with  no  weapon 
but  simple  faith,  and  his  life  in  his  hand.  1  remember  next 
that  when  the  barbarians  came  in,  and  the  European  monarch- 
ies were  founded,  there  came  a  man  as  unlike  to  St.  Peter  as 
can  possibly  be  conceived — of  boundless  ambition,  of  iron  will 
— Hildebrand,  who  alone  was  able  to  cope  with  the  difficulties 
of  his  situation.  Then  came  the  Renaissance,  classic  arts,  pa- 
gan literature;  and  there  arose  in  the  midst  of  them  Leo  X., 
as  their  natural  patron,  as  unlike  to  Hildebrand  as  Hildebrand 
to  St,  Peter.  Then  came  the  shock  of  the  Reformation — the 
panic,  the  alarm,  the  reaction — the  Muses  were  banished,  the 
classic  luxury  was  abolished,  and  the  very  reverse  of  Leo  X. 
appeared  in  the  austere  Puritan,  Pius  V.  And  now  we  have 
Pius  IX.  .  .  .  And  in  twenty  or  a  hundred  j^ears  we  may 
have  a  new  Pope,  as  imlike  to  Pius  IX.  as  Pius  IX.  is  unlike  to 
Pius  v.,  as  Pius  V.  was  unlike  to  Leo  X.,  as  Leo  X.  was  unlike 
to  Hildebrand,  as  all  were  unlike  to  St.  Peter;  and  on  this  I 
rest  my  hope  of  the  ultimate  conciliation  of  Rome  and  Italy, 
of  Catholicism  and  freedom." 

Such,  or  nearly  such,  was  the  consolation  administered  to 
himself  by  the  genial  historian  of  Monte  Casino ;  and  such, 
taken  with  a  wider  range,  is  the  consolation  which  we  may 
minister  to  ourselves  in  viewing  the  changes  of  an  institution 
which,  with  all  its  failings,  cannot  but  command  a  large  share 


THE  POPE.  205 

of  religious  and  philanthropic  interest.  It  is  always  within  the 
bounds  of  hope,  that  a  single  individual,  fully  equal  to  the 
emergency,  who  should  by  chance  or  Providence  find  himself 
in  that  (or  any  like)  exalted  seat,  might  work  wonders — won- 
ders which,  humanly  speaking,  could  not  be  worked,  even  by 
a  man  of  equal  powers,  in  a  situation  less  commanding.  There 
is  a  mediaeval  tale  which  has  even  some  foundation  in  fact,* 
that  a  certain  Pope  was  once  accused  before  a  General  Council 
on  the  charge  of  heresy.  He  was  condemned  to  be  burned ; 
but  it  was  found  that  the  sentence  could  not  be  legally  carried 
into  execution  but  with  the  consent  of  the  Pope  himself.  The 
assembled  Fathers  went  to  the  Pope — venerunt  ad  Papam — 
and  presented  their  humble  petition — et  dixerunt,  0  Papa, 
judica  te  cremari;  and  the  Pope  was  moved  to  pity  for  the 
inextricable  dilemma  in  which  the  Fathers  were  placed.  He 
consented  to  their  prayer.  He  pronounced  judgment  on  him- 
self— et  dixit,  Judico,  me  cremari;  and  his  sentence  was  car- 
ried into  effect — et  crematus  est — and  then  in  reverential  grati- 
tude for  so  heroic  an  act  of  self-denial  he  was  canonized — et 
postea  veneratus  p>ro  sancto.  Such,  although  with  a  more 
cheerful  issue,  might  be  the  solution  of  the  entanglement  of 
the  Church  by  some  future  Pope.  We  have  but  to  imagine  a 
man  of  ordinary  courage,  common  sense,  honesty,  and  discern- 
ment— a  man  who  should  have  the  grace  to  perceive  that  the 
highest  honor  which  he  could  confer  on  the  highest  seat  in  the 
Christian  hierarchy,  and  the  highest  service  he  could  render  to 
the  Christian  religion,  would  be  from  that  lofty  eminence  to 
speak  out  to  the  whole  world  the  truth,  the  whole  truth,  and 
nothing  but  the  truth.  Such  an  one,  regarding  only  the  facts 
of  history,  but  in  the  plenitude  of  authority  which  he  would 
have  inherited,  and  "  speaking  ex  cathedra,  in  discharge  of  his 
office  of  pastor  and  doctor  of  all  Christians,"  might  solemnly 
pronounce  that  he,  his  predecessors,  and  his  successors,  were 
fallible,  personally  and  officially,  and  might  err,  as  they  have 
erred  again  and  again,  both  in  faith  and  morals.  By  so  doing 
he  would  not  have  contradicted  the  decree  of  infallibility,  more 

*  The  storj-  is  founded  on  the  deposition  of  Gregory  V.  In  the  real  story  the 
Council  was  not  a  General,  but  a  Provincial  Council;  the  Pope's  crime  was 
not  heresy,  but  simony:  the  sentence  pronounced  was  not  death,  but  deposi- 
tion. 


206  GERI8TIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

than  that  decree  contradicts  tlie  decrees  of  previous  councils 
and  the  declarations  of  previous  Popes.  By  so  doing  he  would 
incur  insult,  obloquy,  perhaps  death.  But  like  the  legendary 
Pope  of  whom  we  have  spoken,  he  would  have  deserved  the 
crown  of  sanctity,  for  he  would  have  shown  that  quality  which 
above  all  others  belongs  to  saints  in  the  true  sense  of  the  word. 
He  would  have  risen  above  the  temptations  of  his  situation,  his 
order,  his  oflBce ;  he  would  have  relieved  the  Catholic  Church 
from  that  which  its  truest  friends  feel  to  be  an  intolerable  in- 
cubus, and  restored  it  to  light  and  freedom. 


NOTE. 

THE  pope's  POSTUBE  EN  THE   COMMUNION. 

It  is  one  of  the  most  curious  circumstances  of  the  curious  prac- 
tice of  the  Pope's  sitting  at  the  Communion,  that  amongst  Roman 
Catholics  themselves  there  should  be  not  only  the  most  conflicting 
evidence  as  to  the  fact,  but  even  entire  ignorance  as  to  the  practice 
ever  having  existed.  In  the  leading  Roman  Catholic  journal*  the 
statement  tliat  such  a  practice  prevailed  was  asserted  to  be  "the 
purest  romance;"  and  though  this  expression  was  afterwards  cour- 
teously withdrawn,  yet  the  fact  was  still  denied,  and  it  appeared 
that  there  were  even  well-instructed  Roiuau  Catholics  who  had 
never  heard  of  its  existence.  This  obscurity  on  the  matter  may 
perhaps  show  that  it  is  I'egarded  as  of  more  importance  than  would 
at  first  sight  appear. 

1.  The  Roman  Liturgies  themselves  have  no  express  statement 
on  the  subject.  They  all  agree  in  directing  that  the  Pope  retirt'S 
to  his  loft_v  seat — "ad  sedeni  emineutem" — behind  the  altar,  and 
there  remains.  Some  of  them  add  that  he  "stands"  waiting  for 
the  sub-deacon  to  approach  with  the  sacred  element ;  but  beyond 
this,  with  the  exceptions  hereafter  to  be  noticed,  there  is  no  ordei 
given. 

2.  The  earliest  indication  of  the  Pope's  position  to  which  a  refer- 
ence is  found  is  in  St.  Bouaventura  (1221-1274),  on  Psalm  xxi. : 
"  Papa  quaiido  sumit  corpus  Christi  in  missS  solen^ni,  sumit  omni- 
bus vidtntibns,  nam,  sedcnn  in  catliedra.  se  convertit  ad  populum  " 
(0pp.  vol.  i.  pp.  Ill,  112);  :\ih1  that  this  was  understood  to  mean  that 
he  communicated  sitting  aitpears  from  the  marginal  note  of  the 
edition  of  Bouav(;ntura  published  by  order  of  Sixtus  V.  (1230-1296), 
"  Papa  qiiare  communicet  seden.t." 

Durandus,  in  his  "Rationale"  (iv.  §§  4,  5,  p.  203),  and  the  "Liber 

♦  Dublin  Review,  1869. 


THE  POPE.  207 

Sacrarum  Cserimoniarum "  (p.  102),  use  nearly  the  same  words: 
"Ascendens  ad  sedem  eminentem  ibi  commimicat."  This  expres- 
sion, though  it  would  suggest  that  the  Pope  was  seated,  does  not  of 
necessity  imply  it.  But  the  "Liber  Sacrarum  Cserimoniarum," 
although  at  Christmas  (p.  133)  it  describes  tlie  Pope  immediately 
after  his  ascension  of  the  chair  as  "  ibi  stans,"  when  it  speaks  of 
Easter  (p.  176)  expressly  mentions  the  posture  of  sitting  as  at  least 
permissible.  "  Communione  facta.  Papa  surgit,  si  eommunicando 
sedebit." 

Cardinal  Bona  ("  Rev.  Lit."  ii.  c.  17,  88;  iii.  p.  395) — than  whom 
there  is  no  higher  authority — writes:  "  Summus  Pontifex  cum  sol 
emniter  celebrat  sedens  communit  hoc  modo. "  * 

Martene  (1654-1789),  "  De  Ant.  Eccl.  Kit."  i.  4,  10,  p.  421,  states 
that  "  Romae  summus  Pontifex  celebrans  in  sua  sede  consistens  seip- 
sum  communicabat.  Postea  accedebant  episcopi  et  presbyteri  ut  a 
pontiiice  communionem  accipiant,  episcopi  quidem  stantes  ad  se- 
dem pontificis,  presbyteri  vcro  ad  altare  genibus  flexis." 

The  obvious  meaning  of  this  passage  is  that  the  Pope  remains 
("consistens")  f  in  his  place,  sitting;  whilst  the  other  clergy,  accord- 
ing to  their  ranks,  assume  the  different  postures  described,  the 
bishops  standing,  the  presbyters  kneeling.  And  this  is  the  view 
taken  of  it  by  Moroni,  the  chamberlain  and  intimate  friend  of  the 
late  Pope  Gregory  XYI.,  who  cites  these  words  as  showing  "che 
in  Roma  il  Papa  communicavasi  sedendo  nel  suo  trono  "  (Dizionario, 
vol.  XV.  p.  126). 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  confirm  these  high  Roman  authorities  by 
the  testimony  of  Protestant  Ritualists.  But  that  it  was  the  received 
opinion  amongst  such  writers  that  the  Pope  sits  appears  from 
the  unhesitating  assertions  to  this  effect  by  Bingham,  Neale, 
and  Maskell. 

3.  To  these  great  liturgical  aiUhorities  on  the  theory  of  the  Papal 
posture  maj'  be  added,  besides  Moroni  (whose  words  just  cited  may 
be  taken  as  a  testimony  to  the  practice  of  Gregory  XVI.),  the  fol- 
lowing witnesses  to  the  nmge  of  modern  times. 

The  Rev.  .1.  E.  Eustace,  the  well-known  Roman  Catholic  traveller 
through  Italy,  says:  "When  the  Pope  is  seated,  the  two  deacons 
bring  the  holy  sacrament,  which  he  first  reveres  humbly  on  his 
knees,  and  then  receives  in  a  sitting  posture."  Eustace  mentions 
the  practice  with  some  repugnance,  and  adds:  "Benedict  XIII. 
could  never  be  prevailed  upon  to  conform  to  it,  but  always  re- 
mained standing  at  the  altar,  according  to  the  usual  practice." 
(Eustace's  "Travels,"  ii.  170.) 

Archbishop  Gerbet,  who  has  the  credit  of  having  instigated  the 
recent  "Syllabus,"   and  whose  work   on   "Rome   Chrelieuue "  is 

*  A  question  has  been  raised  as  to  the  authority  on  which  the  Cardinal  puts 
forth  his  statement  But  this  does  not  touch  the  authority  of  the  Cardinal 
himself. 

t  The  word  itself  means  simply  "  keeping  his  place." 


208  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

expressly  intended  as  a  guide  to  tlie  antiquities  of  Christian  Home, 
writes  as  follows: 

"Le  Pape  descend  de  I'autel,  traverse  le  sanctuaire  et  monte  au 
si6ge  poutitical.  La,  a  demi  assis,  quoique  incline  par  respect,  il 
communie,"  aic.  "  L' attitude  du  Pape  et  cette  communion  multi- 
ple .  .  .  retracent  la  premiere  communion  des  Apotres  a&sis  3, 
la  table  du  Sauveur."    ("Rome  Chretieune,"  ii.  86,  87.) 

The  passage  is  tlie  more  interesting  as  Gerbet's  reference  to  the 
original  attitude  shows  his  belief  that  it  was  the  retention  of  the 
primitive  practice. 

4.  This  mass  of  testimony  might  be  thought  sufficient  to  establish 
so  simple  a  fact.  But  it  will  be  observed  that  there  is  a  slight 
wavering  in  the  statement  of  Martene  and  of  Gerbet;  and  this  vari- 
ation is  confirmed  by  the  silence  or  by  the  express  contradiciion  of 
other  authorities,  not  indeed  so  high,  but  still  of  considerable 
weight. 

It  is  stated  that  in  the  "Ordo"  of  Urban  VIII.,  after  the  adora- 
tion of  the  sacred  elements  the  Pope  immediately  rises,  "  statim 
surgit;"  and  that  Crispus,  who  was  sub-deacon  to  Clement  XL, 
says,  "  in  cathedra  starts  et  veluti  erectus  in  cruce  sauguincm  sugit." 
These  same  authorities,  with  Catalan!,  also  stale  that  after  the  com- 
munion "the  Pope  takes  his  mitre  and  sits  down,"  "sumpta  mitrS, 
sedet,"  or  "accipit  mitram  et  sedeus,"  etc.  It  is  also  said  to  be 
mentioned  as  a  peculiarity  that  on  Easter  Day,  1481,  Sixtus  IV. 
was  obliged  by  infirmity  to  sit  down  during  the  communion  at 
High  Mass,  which,  if  so  be,  would  imply  that  it  was  not  the  usual 
posture. 

Dr.  Bagge  (in  his  book  on  the  Pontifical  Mass,  1840)  states  that 
"the  Pope  does  not  receive  sitting,  as  Eustace  and  others  assert. 
When  the  sub-deacon  has  reached  the  throne  the  Pope  adores  the 
Sacred  Host,  the  cardinal-deacon  then  takes  the  chalice  and  shows 
it  to  the  Pope  an  1  the  people.  .  .  .  It  is  carried  from  the  dea- 
con to  the  Pope,  who,  having  adored,  remains  standing."* 

5.  Between  these  contradictory  statements  there  is  a  middle  view, 
which  probably  contains  the  solution  of  the  enigma,  and  is  to  l)e 
found  in  the  statements  of  two  authorities,  which  for  this  reason 
are  reserved  for  the  conclusion. 

The  first  is  Rocca  (1545-1620),  who  "  was  chosen  corrector  of  the 
press  of  the  Sixtine  Bible,  and  is  .'^aid  to  have  excelled  all  others  in 
ecclesiastical  knowledge;  and  who,  on  account  of  his  perfect  ac- 
quaintance with  rubrics  and  Liturgies,  was  appointed  Apostolic 
Couiuientator  by  Pope  Clement  VIII."  f 

He  writes  as  follows  (in  his  "  Thesaurus  Rituum,"  in  the  "  Com- 

*  These  quotations,  which  I  have  not  been  able  to  verify,  are  taken  from 
the  statements  of  the  writer  in  tlie  Dublin  Review,  April,  18(ji).  pp.  514,  SI."). 

+  Dublin  Revieiv,  April,  1809,  p.  .51(1.  The  same  passage  extracts  from  the 
sentence  quoted  in  the  text,  "  SummvisPontifex  ad  solium  stans,  uon  sedens," 
but  omits  all  that  precedes  and  all  that  follows. 


THE  POPE.  209 

mentarium  de  Sacra  S.  Pontificis  communiono,"  20):  Dicitur  autem 
Siimmus  Pontifex  seder e  dum  commnnimt,  vel  quia  ipse  ayitiqiiitns 
in  e^mmunicando  sedebat,  vel  quia  sedentis  instar  communicabat, 
tficut  prcesens  in  tempiis  fieri  solet.  Summua  namque  Pontifex  ad 
solium,  stans  nou  sedeus,  ad  luajorem  venerationem  repraeseut- 
andam,  ipsi  tainen  solio,  jjopulo  uuivorso  spectante,  innixus,  et  in- 
curvus,  qumi  sedi'HS  coimmtnicat,  Christum  Dominum  cruci  affixum, 
in  eaque  quodam  modo  reclinantem  reprsBsentans." 

The  other  is  Pope  Benedict  XIV.  (1740-1758),  who  thus  writes  in 
his  treatise  "De  Sacrosancto  Miss*  Sacrificio,"  lib.  ii.  c.  21,  j^  7: 
' '  lUud  autem  prsetermitti  non  potest,  Romanos  quosdam  Pontinces 
in  solemni  Missa  in  solio  sedentes,  facie  ad  popuhim  conversa,  Eticha- 
ristiam  sumere  eonstievisse,  ut  Christi  Passio  et  Mors  experimeretur, 
qui  pro  palam  passus  et  mortuus  est  in  conspectu  omnium,  quotquot 
nefarise  Crucitixioni  adfuere  tamen  (?)  vero  Summum  Poutilicem, 
cum  solemuem  telcbrat  Missam,  se  aliosque  commuuicare  facie 
quidem  ad  populum  conversa,  sed  pedibus  stantem  in  solio,  coipore 
lamen  inclinato,  cum  et  ipse  suscipit,  aliisque  prtebet  Eucharis- 
tiam.  .  .  .  Hinc  est  quamobrem  Pontifex  populo,  procul  et 
exadverso  in  faciem  eum  adspicienti,  videatiir  sedens  communicare, 
ut  bene  observabat  post  S.  Bonaveuturam  Rocca  de  solemn!  commu- 
uione  Summi  Pontificis  et  Casalius  de  veteribus  Sacris  Christian- 
orum  Ritibus,  cap.  81,  p.  333,  ed.  Rom.  1647." 

From  these  two  statements  it  appears  that  the  Popes  in  ancient 
times  sat  whilst  communicating,  but  that  from  the  close  of  the  six- 
teenth century  they  usually  stood  in  a  leaning  or  half-sitting  posture. 

To  these  must  be  added  a  further  statement  of  Pope  Benedict 
XIV.,  in  a  letter  addressed  in  1757  to  the  Master  of  the  Pontifical 
Ceremonies,  on  the  general  question  of  the  lawfulness,  under  cer- 
tain circumstances,  of  celebrating  Mass  in  a  sitting  posture. 

The  general  cases  which  raise  the  question  are  of  gout  and  the 
like;  but  in  the  course  of  the  discussion  the  Pope  describes  some 
particulars  respecting  his  predecessors  bearing  on  the  present  subject. 

Pius  III.  was  elected  to  the  Pontificate  (in  1503)  when  he  was  still 
only  a  deacon.  He  was  ordained  priest  on  the  1st  of  October,  and 
on  the  8th  of  October  he  himself  celebrated  Mass  as  Pope.  On  both 
of  these  occasions  (being  troubled  by  an  ulcer  in  the  leg)  he  sat  dur- 
ing the  whole  ceremony;  a  seat  was  soleumly  i)rcpared,  in  which 
lie  was  to  sit,  and  the  altar  arranged  in  the  form  of  a  long  table, 
under  which  he  might  stretch  his  legs  ("  sedem  in  quit  sedens  ex- 
tensis  cruribus  ordinaretur,  et  mensam  longam  pro  altari  ut  pedes 
subtus  extendi  possent").  It  also  appears  that  in  the  Papal  chapel 
it  is  considered  generallj^  that  the  Pope  has  liberty  to  sit  whilst  he 
administers  the  elements  to  his  court.  It  appears,  further,  that  (also 
without  any  reference  to  special  cases)  the  Pope  sits  during  the 
ceremony  of  his  ordination  as  sub-deacon,  deacon,  and  presbyfer,  if 
lie  has  been  elected  to  the  Pontificate  before  such  ordination;  and 
that  the  fact  of  this  posture  during  the  Holy  Comnuuiiou  was  con- 
sidered by  Benedict  XIV.  to  cover  the  question  generally.    It  will 


210  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

be  sufficient  to  quote  the  passage  which  relates  to  the  ordination  of 
a  Pope  as  priest.  "In collatione  sacerdotii sedens  Foiitifex  manuum 
impositjoueni,  olei  sancti,  quod  cateclmmeuoruni  dicitur,  unctioiieni, 
caliccm  cum  viuo  et  aqua,  et  patinam  cum  hostia,  recipit.  Quae 
omnia  luculenter  ostendunt  hand  inconmniens  esse  sedere Poutijicein  in 
Jundioiiibus  sacratissimis,  utque  oo  ij)so  Missam  toiam  a  sedente  posse 
celebrari,  prcesertim  si  pedibus  debilitatis  insistere  non  valeat."  He 
concludes  with  this  pertinent  address  on  his  own  behalf  to  the  Mas- 
ter of  the  Ceremonies:  "  Et,  siquidem  sedentes  missam  celcbrare 
statuimus,  tuum  erit  pra^parare  mensam  altaris  cum  consecrato 
lapidc,"  etc.,  "vacuumque  subtus  alture  spatium  relinquaturexten- 
dcndis  pedibus  idoneum;  conlidentes  singula  dexteritati  fuse  singu- 
lari  perticienda,  apostolicam  tibi  benedictiouem  peramanter  imper- 
timur."* 

6.  The  conclusion,  therefore,  of  the  whole  matter  must  be  this. 
In  early  times,  probably  down  to  the  reign  of  Sixtus  V.  (as  in- 
dicated in  the  mrrginal  note  on  St.  Bonavcntura),  the  position  of  thu 
Pope  was  sitting,  as  a  venerable  relic  of  primitive  ages.  Gradually, 
as  appears  from  the  words  of  Eustace,  tlie  value  of  this  tenacious 
and  interesting  adherence  to  the  ancient  usage  was  depreciated  from 
its  apparent  variation  from  the  general  sentiment,  as  expressed  in 
the  standing  posture  of  priests  and  the  kneeling  attitude  of  the  com- 
municants, and  it  would  seem  that  before  the  cud  of  the  sixteenth 
century  the  custom  had  been  in  part  abandoned.  But  with  that 
remarkable  tenacity  of  ecclesiastical  usages,  which  retains  particles 
of  such  usages  when  the  larger  part  has  disappeared,  the  ancient 
posture  was  not  wholly  given  up.  As  the  wafer  and  the  chalice  are 
but  minute  fragments  of  the  ancient  Supper — as  the  standing  post- 
ure of  the  priests  is  a  remnant  of  the  standhig  posture  of  devotion 
through  the  whole  Christian  Church — as  the  standing  posture  of  the 
English  clergyman  during  part  of  the  Communion  Service  is  a  rem- 
nant of  the  standing  posture  of  the  Catholic  clergy  through  the 
whole  of  it — as  the  sitting  posture  of  the  earlier  Popes  was  a  rem- 
nant of  the  sitting  or  recumbent  posture  of  the  primitive  Christian 
days — so  the  partial  attitude  of  the  present  Popes  is  a  remnant  of  the 
sitting  posture  of  their  predecessors.  It  is  a  compromise  between 
the  ancient  historical  usage  and  modern  decorum.     The  Pope's  atti- 

♦  0pp.  xvil.  474,  489.  It  will  be  observed  that  the  acceptance  of  the  chalice 
and  paten  by  the  Pope  at  his  ordinations  is  not  of  itself  the  Commnnion.  It 
must  be  further  noticed  that  the  Pope  in  thus  writing  makes  this  qualification: 
"  Dum  Romanus  Pontifex  solemniter  celebrat,  .  .  .  recipit  sacram  Eueha- 
ristiam  sub  spcciebus  panis  et  vini  stans,  neque  sedens  communicat,  prout 
per  erroreni  scripserunt  aliqui,  viderique  potest  torn.  ii.  Tract  Nostri  de  Sac. 
Missoe,  sect.  i.  c.  20,  §  1."  It  is  a  curious  example  of  what  may  be  called  "  the 
audacity  "  which  sometimes  characterizes  expressions  of  Pontifical  opinion, 
that  the  very  passage  to  which  Bciu'dict  XIV.  in  the  last  year  of  his  life,  thus 
referred  to  as  "  an  erroneous  statement"  of  the  Pope's  sitting  at  the  Com- 
munion," contains  his  own  asseitiou  that  "some  of  the  Koman  Pontiffs  in 
solemn  mass  were  accustomed  to  receive  the  Eucharist  sitting."  In  fact,  it 
Is  difficult  to  reconcile  the  statement  in  the  letter  just  quoted  with  the  pas- 
sages which  are  quoted  in  the  text. 


THE  POPE.  211 

tilde,  so  ■wo  gather  from  Rocca  and  Benedict  XIY.,  and  also  from 
Archbishop  Gerbet,  is  neither  of  standing  or  of  sitting.  He  goes  to 
his  lofty  chair,  he  stands  till  the  sub-deacon  comes,  he  bows  himself 
down  in  adoration  as  the  Host  approaches.  Thus  far  all  are  agreed, 
tliough  it  is  evident  that  at  a  distance  any  one  of  those  postures 
might  be  taken,  as  it  has  by  some  spectators,  for  the  posture  at  the 
act  of  communion.  But  in  the  act  of  communion,  as  far  as  we  can 
gather  from  the  cliief  authorities,  he  is  in  his  chair,  facing  the 
people,  leaning  against  the  bacli  of  the  chair,  so  as  not  to  abandon 
entirely  the  attitude  of  sitting — suliicieutly  erect  to  give  the  appear- 
ance of  standing,  witli  his  head  and  body  bent  down  to  express  the 
reverence  due  to  the  sacred  elements.  This  complex  attitude  would 
account  for  the  contradictions  of  eye-witnesses,  and  the  ditficulty  of 
making  so  peculiar  a  compromise  wovUd  perhaps  cause  a  variation 
in  the  posture  of  particular  Popes,  or  even  of  tlie  same  Pope  on  par- 
ticular occasions.  What  to  one  spectator  would  seem  standing,  to 
anotlier  would  seem  sitting,  and  to  another  might  seem  kneeling. 

This  endeavor  to  combine  a  prescribed  attitude  either  with  con- 
venience or  with  a  change  of  sentiment  is  not  uncommon.  One 
parallel  instance  has  been  often  adduced  in  the  case  of  the  Popes 
themselves.  In  the  great  procession  on  Corpus  Christi  Day,  when 
the  Pope  is  carried  in  a  palanquin  round  the  Piazza  of  St.  Peter,  it 
is  generally  believed  tliat,  whilst  he  appears  to  be  in  a  kneeling  atti- 
tude, the  cushions  and  furniture  of  the  palanquin  are  so  arranged 
as  to  enable  him  to  bear  the  fatigue  of  the  ceremony  by  sitting, 
whilst  to  the  spectators  he  appears  to  be  kneeling.*  Another  par- 
allel is  to  be  found  from  another  point  of  view,  in  one  of  the  few 
other  instances  in  which  the  posture  of  sitting  has  been  retained,  or 
rather  adopted,  namely,  in  the  Presbyterian  Church  of  Scotland. 
There  the  attitude  of  sitting  was  rigidly  prescribed.  But,  if  we  may 
trust  an  account  of  the  Scottish  Sacrament,  believed  to  be  as  accu- 
rate as  it  is  poetic,  the  posture  of  the  devout  Presbyterian  peasant  as 
nearly  as  possible  corresponds  to  that  which  Rocca,  Gerbet,  and 
Benedict  XIV.  give  of  the  Pope's  present  attitude — "innixus," 
"incurvus  inclinato  coipore,"  "S,  demi  assis,"  "  une  prof onde  in- 
clination de  corps :" 

"  There  they  sit    .... 
....    In  reverence  meet 
Many  an  eye  to  heaven  is  lifted, 

Meek  and  very  lowly. 
Souls  bowed  down  with  reverent  fear^ 
Hoary-headed  elders  moving. 
Bear  the  hallowed  bread  and  wine, 
While  devoutly  still  the  people 
Low  in  prayer  bow  the  heaa."t 

It  is  interesting  to  observe  this  ancient  usage  becoming  small  by 

*  See  the  minute  account  of  an  eye-witness  in  1830  in  Crabbe  Bobinson's 
Diary,  ii.  469. 
t  Kilmahoe;  and  other  Poems.    By  J.  C.  Shairp. 


212  OHBISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

degrees  and  beautifully  less,  yet  still  not  entirely  extinguished :  re- 
duced from  recumbency  to  sitting,  from  the  sitting  of  all  to  the 
sitting  of  a  single  person,  from  the  sitting  of  a  single  person  to  the 
doubtful  reminiscence  of  his  sitting,  by  a  posture  half -sitting,  half- 
standing. 

The  compromise  of  the  Pope's  actual  posture  is  a  characteristic 
specimen  of  that  "singular  dexterity"  wliich  Benedict  XIV.  attribulos 
to  his  Master  of  the  Ceremonies,  and  which  has  so  often  marked  the 
proceedings  of  the  Roman  court.  To  have  devised  a  posture  by 
which,  as  on  the  festival  of  Corpus  Chi-isti,  the  Pope  can  at  once  sit 
and  kneel;  or — as  in  the  cases  mentioned  by  Pope  Benedict  XIV. — 
an  arrangement  by  which  the  Pope,  whilst  sitting,  can  "stretch  his 
legs  in  the  vacant  space  under  the  altar  " ;  or,  as  in  the  case  we  have 
been  considering,  a  position  of  standing  so  as  to  give  the  appearance 
of  sitting,  and  sitting  so  as  to  give  the  appearance  of  standing — is  a 
minute  example  of  the  subtle  genius  of  the  institution  of  the  Papacy. 
As  the  practice  itself  is  a  straw,  indicating  the  movement  of  prim- 
itive antiquity,  so  the  modern  compromise  is  a  straw,  indicating  the 
movement  of  the  Roman  Church  in  later  times. 


THE  LITANY.  213 


CHAPTER  XIL 

THE    LITANY. 

The  Litany  is  one  of  the  most  popular  parts  of  the  English 
Prayer  Book.  It  is  not  one  of  the  most  ancient  parts,  but  it 
is  sufficiently  ancient  to  demand  an  inquiry  into  its  peculiari- 
ties, and  its  peculiarities  are  sufficiently  marked  to  demand  a 
statement. 

I.  First,  as  to  its  origin.  It  is  one  of  the  parts  of  the 
Prayer  Book  which  has  its  origin  in  a  time  neither  primi- 
tive nor  reformed.  For  four  hundred  years  there  were  no 
prayers  of  this  special  kind  in  the  Christian  Church;  nor, 
again,  in  the  Reformed  Church  were  any  prayers  like  it 
introduced  afresh.  It  sprang  from  an  age  gloomy  with  disas- 
ter and  superstition,  when  heathenism  was  still  struggling  with 
Christianity ;  when  Christianity  was  disfigured  by  fierce  con- 
flicts within  the  Church ;  when  the  Roman  Empire  was  totter- 
ing to  its  ruin ;  when  the  last  great  luminary  of  the  Church — 
Augustine — had  just  passed  away,  amidst  the  forebodings  of 
universal  destruction.  It  was  occasioned  also  by  a  combina- 
tion of  circumstances  of  the  most  peculiar  character.  The 
general  disorder  of  the  time  was  aggravated  by  an  unusual 
train  of  calamities.  Besides  the  ruin  of  society,  attendant  on 
the  invasion  of  the  barbarians,  there  came  a  succession  of 
droughts,  pestilences,  and  earthquakes,  which  seemed  to  keep 
pace  with  the  throes  of  the  moral  world.  Of  all  these  horrors, 
France  was  the  centre.  On  one  of  these  occasions,  when  the 
people  had  been  hoping  that,  with  the  Easter  festival,  some 
respite  would  come,  a  sudden  earthquake  shook  the  Church  at 
Vienne,  on  the  Rhone.  It  was  on  Easter  eve ;  the  congrega- 
tion rushed  out;  the  bishop  of  the  city  (Mamertus)  was  left 
alone  before  the  altar.  On  that  terrible  night  he  formed  a 
resolution  of  inventing  a  new  form,  as  he  hoped,  of  drawing 
down  the  mercy  of  God.     He  determined  that  in  the  three 


214  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

da3's  before  Ascension  day  there  should  be  a  long  procession 
to  the  nearest  churches  in  the  neighborhood.  From  Vienne 
the  custom  spread.  Amongst  the  vine-clad  mountains,  the 
extinct  volcanoes  of  Auvergne,  the  practice  vpas  taken  up  with 
renewed  fervor.  From  town  to  town  it  ran  through  France  ; 
it  seemed  to  be  a  new  vent  for  a  hitherto  pent-up  devotion — a 
new  spell  for  chasing  away  the  evils  of  mankind.  Such  was 
the  first  Litany — a  popular  supplication,  sung  or  shouted,  not 
within  the  walls  of  any  consecrated  building,  but  by  wild, 
excited  multitudes,  following  each  other  in  long  files,  through 
street  and  field,  over  hill  and  valley,  as  if  to  bid  nature  join  in 
the  depth  of  their  contrition.  It  was,  in  short,  what  we 
should  call  a  revival* 

It  is  only  by  an  effort  that  we  can  trace  the  identity  of  a 
modern  Litany  with  those  strange  and  moring  scenes.  Our 
attention  may,  however,  be  well  called  to  the  contrast,  for  vari- 
ous reasons. 

1.  We  do  well  to  remember  that  a  good  custom  does  not 
lose  its  goodness  because  it  arose  in  a  bad  time,  in  a  corrupt 

.  .  age,  in  a  barbarous  country.  Out  of  such  dark 
beginnings  have  sprung  some  of  our  best  institu- 
tions. \n  order  for  a  practice  or  a  doctrine  to  bear  good 
Christian  fruit,  we  need  not  demand  that  its  first  origin  should 
be  primitive,  or  Protestant,  or  civilized;  it  is  enough  that  it 
should  be  good  in  itself  and  productive  of  good  effects. 

2.  Again,  it  is  well  to  remember  that  the  goodness  of  a 
thing  depends  not  on  its  outward  form,  but  on  its  inward 
spirit.  The  very  word  "  Litany,"  in  its  first  origin,  included 
long  processions,  marches  to  and  fro,  cries  and  screams,  which 
have  now  disappeared  almost  everywhere  from  public  devo- 
tions, even  in  the  Roman  Catholic  Church.  Those  who  estab- 
lished it  would  not  have  imagined  that  a  Litany  without  these 
accompaniments  could  have  any  efficacy  whatever.     We  know 

*  Sidonius  Apollinaris,  i.  7;  Gregorj-  of  Tours  {Hist.  Franc,  ii.  6.  34),  a.d.  447. 
There  were  some  earlier  and  some  later  developments  of  this  practice,  but 
this  .seems  the  most  authentic  statement  of  their  first  begiiminj;.  The  brief 
form  of  "Kyrie  Eleeson  ''  had  existed  before.  The  first  occurs  in  the  heatl  eu 
Worship.  "  When  we  call  upon  God,  we  say  of  him  Kiipie  e'Aerio-oM."  (Arrian, 
Comvieut.  de  Kpi.it.  DUpiit.  ii.  c.  7  )  The  Litany  for  St.  Maik's  Day  was  in- 
stituted A.D.  WM  by  Gregory  the  Great,  partly  to  avert  a  pestilence,  jjartly  as 
a  substitute  for  a  procession  which  was  held  by  the  ancient  Koinans  to  pro- 
pitiate the  goddess  Robigo,  or  Mildew. 


TEE  LITANY.  215 

now  that  the  accompaniments  were  mere  accidents,  and  that 
the  substance  has  continued.  What  has  happened  in  the 
Litany  has  occurred  again  and  again  with  every  part  of  our 
ecclesiastical  system.  Always  the  form  and  the  letter  are 
perishing;  always  there  will  be  some  who  think  that  the  form 
and  the  letter  are. the  thing  itself  ;  generally  in  the  Christian 
Church  there  is  enough  vitality  to  keep  the  spirit,  though  the 
form  is  changed ;  generally,  we  trust,  as  in  the  Litany,  so  else- 
where, there  will  be  found  men  wise  enough  and  bold  enough 
to  retain  the  good  and  throw  off  the  bad  in  all  the  various 
forms  of  our  religious  and  ecclesiastical  life. 

3.  Again,  there  is  a  peculiar  charm  and  interest  in  knowing 
the  accidental  historical  origin  of  this  service.  To  any  one 
who  has  a  heart  to  feel  and  an  imagination  to  carry  him  back- 
wards and  forwards  along  the  fields  of  time,  there  is  a  pleasure, 
an  edification  in  the  reflection  that  the  prayers  which  we  use 
were  not  composed  in  the  dreamy  solitude  of  the  closet  or  the 
convent,  but  were  wrung  out  of  the  necessities  of  human  suf- 
ferers like  ourselves.  If,  here  and  there,  we  catch  a  note  of 
some  expression  not  wholly  suitable  to  our  own  age,  there  is 
yet  something  at  once  grand  and  comforting  in  the  recollec- 
tion that  we  hear  in  those  responses  the  echoes  of  the  thunders 
and  earthquakes  of  central  France,  of  the  irruption  of  wild 
barbarian  hordes,  of  the  ruin  of  the  falling  empire ;  that  the 
Litany  which  we  use  for  our  homelier  sorrows  was,  as  Hooker 
says,  "  the  very  strength  and  comfort  of  the  Church  "  in  that 
awful  distress  of  nations.  "  The  offences  of  our  forefathers," 
the  "  vengeance  on  our  sins,"  the  "  lightning  and  tempest,"  the 
"  plague,  pestilence,  and  famine,"  the  "  battle  and  murder,  and 
sudden  death,"  the  "prisoners  and  captives,"  the  "desolate 
and  oppressed,"  the  "troubles  and  adversities,"  the  "hurt  of 
persecutions," — all  these  phrases  receive  a  double  force  if  they 
recall  to  us  the  terrors  of  that  dark,  disastrous  time,  when  the 
old  world  was  hastening  to  its  end,  and  the  new  was  hardly 
struggling  into  existence. 

4.  Further,  it  was  under  a  like  pressure  of  calamities  that 
the  Litany  first  became  part  of  our  services.  It  is  the  earliest 
portion  of  the  English  Prayer  Book  that  appeared  in  its  pres- 
ent English  form.  It  was  translated  from  Latin  into  English 
either  by    Archbishop    Cranmer  or   by  King   Henry    VIIL 


216  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

himself.  These  are  the  words  with  which,  on  the  eve  of  his 
expedition  to  France  in  1544,  he  sent  this  first  instalment  of 
the  Prayer  Book  to  Cranmer :  "  Calling  to  our  remembrance 
the  miserable  state  of  all  Christendom,  being  at  this  present 
time  plagued,  besides  all  other  troubles,  with  most  cruel  wars, 
hatreds,  and  disunions,  ....  the  help  and  remedy  hereof 
being  far  exceeding  the  power  of  any  man,  must  be  called  for 
of  Him  who  only  is  able  to  grant  our  petitions,  and  never  for- 
saketh  or  repelleth  any  that  firmly  believe  and  faithfully  call 
upon  Him  ;  unto  whom  also  the  examples  of  Scripture  encour- 
age us  in  all  these  and  others  our  troubles  and  perplexities  to 
flee.  Being  therefore  resolved  to  have  continually  from  hence- 
forth general  processions  in  all  cities,  towns,  and  churches  or 
p  arishes  of  this  our  realm,  ....  forasmuch  as  heretofore  the 
people,  partly  for  lack  of  good  instruction,  partly  that  they 
understood  no  part  of  such  prayers  and  suffrages  as  were  used 
to  be  said  and  sung,  have  used  to  come  very  slackly,  we  have 
set  forth  certain  goodly  prayers  and  suffrages  in  our  native 
English  tongue,  which  we  send  you  herewith."  * 

Thus  it  is  that  whilst  the  Litany  at  its  first  beginning  ex- 
pressed the  distress  of  the  first  great  convulsion  of  Europe  in 
the  fall  of  the  Roman  Empire,  the  Litany  in  its  present  form 
expressed  the  cry  of  distress  in  that  second  great  convulsion 
which  accompanied  the  Reformation.  It  is  the  first  utterance 
of  the  English  nation  in  its  own  native  English  tongue,  calling 
for  divine  help,  in  that  extremity  of  perplexity,  when  men's 
hearts  were  divided  between  hope  and  despair  for  the  fear  of 
those  things  that  were  coming  on  the  earth. 

5.  In  like  manner  many  a  time  have  those  expressions  of  awe 
and  fear  struck  some  chord  in  the  hearts  of  individuals,  far 
more  deeply  than  liad  they  been  more  calmly  and  deliberately 
composed  at  first. 

How  affecting  is  that  account  of  Samuel  Johnson,  whom, 
in  the  church  of  St.  Clement  Danes,  his  biogi-apher  overheard 
repeating  in  a  voice  that  trembled  with  emotion  the  petition 
which  touched  the  only  sensitive  chord  in  his  strong  mind, 
"  In  the  hour  of  death  and  in  the  day  of  judgment,  good  Lord 
deliver  us !"     How  striking  was  the  use  made  by  a  great  orator 

♦  Froude's  History  of  England,  iv.  482. 


TEE  LITANY.  217 

of  the  words  of  another  chmse,  -when,  on  the  occasion  of  the 
omission  of  the  name  of  an  unfortunate  princess  from  the 
Liturgy,  he  said  that  there  was  at  least  one  passage  in  the 
Litany  where  all  might  think  of  her  and  pray  for  her — amongst 
those  who  were  "desolate  and  oppressed." 

IL  Secondly,  it  is  instructive  to  notice  how,  in  succeeding 
affes,  the  particular  o-rievance  or  want  of  the  time,  ^,        ^    , 
sometimes  well,  sometimes  ill,  has  labored  to  express 
itself  amongst  these  petitions. 

1.  It  was  natural  that,  in  the  reign  of  Edward  VL,  when  the 
burdensome  yoke  of  the  see  of  Rome  had  onh*  just  been  shaken 
off,  a  prayer  should  have  been  added, — "  From  the  tyranny 
of  the  Bishop  of  Rome,  and  from  all  his  detestable  enormities, 
good  Lord  deliver  us."  This  Avas  perhaps  excusable  under 
the  circumstances ;  but  it  is  a  matter  of  rejoicing  that,  by  the 
wisdom  of  Elizabeth,  this  fierce  expression  should  have  been 
struck  out. 

2.  Again,  amidst  the  general  unsettlement  of  ci\dl  and  re- 
ligious society  in  the  time  of  Henry  VIIL,  and  of  Charles  IL, 
it  was  no  wonder  that  the  petitions  should  have  been  crowded 
with  alarms,  in  the  first  instance,  of  "  sedition,  privy  conspiracy, 
false  doctrine,  and  heresy,"  or  "  hardness  of  heart  and  contempt 
of  God's  commandments;"  in  the  second  instance  of  "rebellion 
and  schism." 

These  expressions  dwell  too  exclusively  on  the  dangers  of 
disorder  and  anarchy,  and  too  little  on  the  dangers  of  de- 
spotism and  arbitrary  power.  Yet  there  is  one  petition, 
which  first  came  in  with  the  dawn  of  the  Reformation, 
which  no  ancient  Litany  seems  to  have  contained,  and  yet 
which  attacks  the  chief  sin  that  called  down  the  displeasure  of 
Christ — the  prayer  against  hypocrisy.  It  is  not  unimportant 
to  remember  that  in  the  prayer  against  that  sin,  in  its  full 
extent — the  sin  of  acting  a  part — the  sin  of  disregarding 
truth — the  sin  of  regarding  the  outward  more  than  the  inward 
— in  that  one  prayer  is  summed  up  the  whole  spirit  of  the 
Reformation. 

3.  Again,  the  present  Litany  stands  alone  in  the  prominence 
which  it  gives,  and  the  emphasis  which  it  imparts,  to  the 
prayer  for  the  sovereign.  It  was  no  doubt  intended  to  be  the 
expression    of    the   great   principle    vindicated   in    Hooker's 

10 


218  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

"  Ecclesiastical  Polity,"  that  the  sovereign,  as  representative  of 
the  law,  controls  and  guides  the  whole  concerns  both  of  Church 
and  State.  It  was  the  expression  of  the  Avish  to  secure  for  the 
interest  of  the  State  no  less  than  for  the  interest  of  the  clergy, 
not  merely  as  in  the  old  Litanies,  victory  abroad,  and  peace  at 
home,  but  righteousness  and  holiness  of  life,  the  faith,  the  fear, 
and  the  love  of  God. 

4,  Again,  as  we  read  some  of  the  petitions  we  cannot  but 
call  to  mind  the  wishes  of  good  men  that  something  might 
have  been  added  or  explained.  The  prayer  against  sudden, 
death. — Earnestly  did  the  Puritan  divines  in  the  time  of 
Charles  11.  entreat  that  this  might  be  expanded  into  what  was 
probably  intended,  and  what  in  fact  existed  in  the  older  forms 
— "  From  dying  suddenly  and  unprepared."  It  was  a  natural 
scruple.  Many  a  one  has  felt  that  "  sudden  death  "  would  bo 
a  blessing  and  not  a  curse — and  that  to  those  who  are  prepared 
no  death  can  be  sudden.  The  hard,  uncompromising  rulers  of 
that  age  refused  to  listen  to  the  remonstrance;  and  we,  as  we 
utter  the  prayer  in  its  unaltered  form,  may  justly  feel  a  mo- 
mentary pang  at  the  thought  of  the  good  men  on  whose  con- 
sciences they  thus  needlessly  trampled. 

Again,  let  any  reflect  on  the  changes  meditated  by  the  good 
men  who  made  the  last  attempt  of  revision  in  1689:  "  From 
all  rash  censure  and  contention  ;"  and  again,  "  from  drunkenness 
and  gluttony,''"'  "from  sloth  and  ^nisspending  of  our  time,"  "  from 
lying  and  slandering,  from  vain  swearing,  cursing,  and  perjury, 
from  covetousness,  oppression,  and  all  injustice,  good  Lord 
deliver  us ;"  "  Let  it  please  Thee  to  endue  us  with  the  graces 
of  humility  and  meekness,  of  contentedness  and  2Mtience,  of  true 
justice,  of  temperance  and  purity,  of  pcaceableness  and  charity," 
"and  have  pity  upon  all  that  are  persecuted  for  truth  and 
righteousness'  sake."  In  these  intended  additions  of  Tillotson, 
P)urnet,  and  Patrick,  we  see  at  once  the  keen  sense  of  the  evils, 
some  of  them  peculiar  to  that  age — of  the  higher  virtues,  also 
peculiar  to  that  age  no  less. 

Again,  in  our  own  times  it  has  been  recorded  of  Archbishop 
Whately,  that  when  he  came  to  the  prayer  that  we  might  not 
"  be  hurt  by  persecutions,"  he  always  added  internally  a  prayer 
"  that  we  may  not  be  persecutors."  This  was  a  holy  and  a 
noble  thought,  much  needed,  well  supplied,  which  perhaps  be- 


THE  LITANY.  219 

fore  our  age  it  would  hardly  have  occurred  to  any  ecclesiastic 
to  utter. 

In  this  way  the  Litany  has  grown  with  the  growth  of 
Christendom  ;  and  may,  without  any  direct  change,  suggest 
even  more  than  it  says  to  those  who  use  it  rightly. 

III.  We  turn  from  the  occasion  and  the  growth  of  the 
Litany  to  the  form  in  which  it  is  expressed.  That  form  is 
very  peculiar,  and  its  explanation  is  to  be  sought 
in  the  occasion  of  its  first  introduction.  The  usual 
mode  of  addressing  our  prayers,  both  in  the  Scriptures  and  in 
the  Prayer  Book,  is  to  God,  our  Father,  through  Jesus  Christ. 
This  is  the  form  of  the  Lord's  Prayer,  after  which  manner  we 
are  all  taught  to  pray.  This  is  the  form  throughout  the  New 
Testament,  with  two  exceptions,  which  shall  be  noticed  pres- 
ently. This  was  the  general  mode  of  prayer  throughout  the 
early  ages  of  the  Church.  Even  those  earlier  forms  of  prayer 
which  are  most  like  the  Litany  are  for  the  first  three  hundred 
years  of  the  Church  always  addressed  direct  to  God  the  Father.* 
It  was  the  normal  condition  of  the  only  part  of  the  Liturgy 
that  is  of  ancient  use — that  of  the  Eucharist.  In  conformity 
with  this,  is  the  plan  adopted  in  almost  all  the  collects  and 
prayers  in  the  other  parts  of  the  English  Prayer  Book.  Most 
important  is  this,  both  because  only  by  so  doing  do  we  fulfil 
the  express  commands  of  Christ  and  also  because  it  thus  keeps 
before  our  minds  the  truth,  which  the  Scriptures  never  allow 
us  to  let  go,  of  the  Unity  of  Almighty  God.  Most  fully,  too, 
luive  the  gi'eatest  ecclesiastical  authorities  on  this  subject  re- 
fognized  both  the  doctrine  and  the  fact,  that,  as  a  general  rule, 
prayer  ought  to  be  addressed,  and  has  in  the  usual  form  of 
ancient  catholic  devotion  been  always  addressed,  only  to  God 
the  Father. 

But  there  are  exceptions.  No  rule,  even  in  these  sacred 
matters,  is  so  rigid  as  not  to  admit  some  variations.  The 
largest  number  of  such  variations  are  in  the  poetical  parts  of 
the  service,  and  are  probably  connected  with  the  peculiar  feel- 
ing which  led  to  the  use  of  poetic  diction  in  public  worship. 
But  the  most  remarkable  exception  is  the  Litany.  It  is  not 
perhaps  certain  that  all  the  petitions  are  addressed  to  Christ  ;f 

*  See  Keble's  Eucharistical  Adoration,  p.  114. 

+  "We  beseech  Thee  to  hear  us,  O  Lord,"  is  in  the  older  Litanies  addressed 


220  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

but  at  any  rate,  a  large  portion  are  so  addressed.  It  stands  in 
this  respect  almost  isolated  amidst  the  rest  of  the  Prayer 
Book.  What  is  the  reason — what  is  the  defence  for  this  ? 
Many  excellent  persons  have  at  times  felt  a  scruple  at  such  a 
deviation  from  the  precepts  of  Scripture  and  from  the  practice 
of  ancient  Christendom.  What  are  we  to  say  to  explain  it  ? 
The  explanation  may  be  found  in  the  original  circumstances 
under  which  the  Litany  was  introduced.  When  the  soul  is 
overwhelmed  with  difficulties  and  distresses,  like  those  which 
caused  the  French  Christians  in  the  fifth  century  to  utter  their 
piteous  supplications  to  God,  it  seems  to  be  placed  in  a  differ- 
ent posture  from  that  of  common  life.  The  invisible  world  is 
brought  much  nearer — the  language,  the  feelings,  of  the  heart 
become  more  impassioned,  more  vehement,  more  urgent.  The 
inhabitants,  so  to  speak,  of  the  world  of  spirits  seem  to  be- 
come present  to  our  spirits ;  the  words  of  common  intercourse 
seem  unequal  to  convey  the  thoughts  which  are  laboring  to 
express  themselves.  As  in  poetry,  so  in  sorrow,  and  for  a  simi- 
lar reason,  our  ordinary  forms  of  speech  are  changed.  So  it 
was  in  the  two  exceptions  which  occur  in  the  New  Testament. 
When  Stephen  was  in  the  midst  of  his  enemies,  and  no  help 
for  him  left  on  earth,  then  "  the  heavens  were  opened,  and  he 
saw  the  Son  of  Man  standing  on  the  right  hand  of  God,"  and, 
thus  seeing  Him,  he  addressed  his  petition  straight  to  Him — 
"  Lord  Jesus,  receive  my  spirit — Lord,  lay  not  this  sin  to  their 
charge."  When  St.  Paul  was  deeply  oppressed  by  the  thorn 
in  the  fleshy  then  again  his  Lord  appeared  to  liim  (we  know 
not  how),  and  then  to  Him,  present  to  the  eye  whether  of  the 
body  or  the  spirit  (as  on  the  road  to  Damascus),  the  Apostle 
addressed  the  threefold  supplication,  "  Let  this  depart  from 
me,"  and  the  answer,  in  like  manner,  to  the  ear  of  the  body 
or  spirit,  was  direct — "  My  grace  is  sufficient  for  thee."  So  is 
it  in  the  Litany.  Those  who  wrote  it,  and  we  who  use  it, 
stand  for  the  moment  in  the  place  of  Stephen  and  Paul.  We 
knock,  as  it  were,  more  earnestly  at  the  gates  of  heaven — we 
"thrice  beseech  the  Lord" — and  the  veil  is  for  a  moment 
withdrawn,  and  the  Son  of  Man  is  there  standing  to  receive 

to  God  (Martene,  ili.  62),  and  so  it  would  seem  to  be  iu  some  of  the  petitions  in 
the  English  Litany.  But  jierhaps  the  most  natural  interpretation  is  to  regard 
the  whole  as  addressed  to  Christ. 


TEE  LITANY.  221 

our  prayer.  In  that  rude  time,  when  the  Litany  was  first 
introduced,  they  who  used  it  would  fain  have  drawn  back  the 
veil  further  still.  It  was  in  the  Litanies  of  the  Middle  Ages 
that  we  first  find  the  invocations  not  only  of  Christ  our  Sa- 
viour, but  of  those  earthly  saints  who  have  departed  with  Him 
into  that  other  world.  These  the  Protestant  Churches  have 
now  ceased  to  address.  But  the  feeling  which  induced  men 
to  call  upon  them  is  the  same  in  kind  as  that  which  runs 
through  this  whole  exceptional  service :  namely,  the  endeavor, 
under  the  pressure  of  strong  emotion  and  heavy  calamity,  to 
bring  ourselves  more  nearly  into  the  presence  of  the  Invisible. 
Christ  and  the  saints  at  such  times  seemed  to  come  out  like 
stars,  which  in  the  daylight  cannot  be  seen,  but  in  the  dark- 
ness of  the  night  are  visible.  The  saints,  like  falling  stars  or 
passing  meteors,  have  again  receded  into  the  darkness.  Chris- 
tians by  increased  reflection  have  been  brought  to  feel  that  of 
them  and  of  their  state  not  enough  is  known  to  justify  this 
invocation  of  their  help.  But  Christ,  the  Lord  and  King  of 
the  saints,  still  remains — the  Bright  and  Morning  Star,  more 
visible  than  all  the  rest,  more  bright  and  more  cheering,  as  the 
darkness  of  the  night  becomes  deeper,  as  the  cold  becomes 
more  and  more  chill. 

We  justly  acquiesce  in  the  practice  which  has  excluded 
those  lesser  mediators.  But  this  one  remarkable  exception  of 
the  Litany  in  favor  of  addressing  our  prayers  to  the  one  Great 
Mediator  may  be  permitted,  if  we  remember  that  it  is  an 
exception,  and  if  we  understand  the  grounds  on  which  it  is 
made.  In  the  rest  of  the  Prayer  Book  we  follow  the  ancient 
rule  and  our  Master's  own  express  command,  by  addressing  the 
Father  only.  Here  in  the  Litany,  when  we  express  our  most 
urgent  needs,  it  may  be  allowed  to  us  to  deviate  from  that  gen- 
eral rule,  and  ii.ivite  the  aid  of  Jesus  Christ,  at  once  the  Son 
of  Man  and  Son  of  God. 

Such  being  the  case,  two  important  results  are  involved  in 
this  form  of  the  Litany. 

1.  If,  on  this  solemn  occasion,  we  can  thus  leave  for  a 
moment  the  prescribed  order  of  devotion,  and,  with  Stephen 
and  Paul,  address  to  Christ  the  prayers  which  we  usually 
address  to  the  Father,  it  implies  a  unity  between  the  Father 
and  the  Sun  which  is  sometimes  overlooked.     Often  we  read 


222  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

statements  wliicli  seem  to  speak  of  the  Father  and  the  Son  as 
if  they  were  two  rival  divinities,  the  one  all  justice,  the  other 
all  love ;  the  one  bent  on  destroying  guilty  sinners,  the  other 
striving  to  appease  the  Father's  wrath ;  the  one  judging  and 
forgiving,  the  other  suffering  and  pleading.  Such  is  the  im- 
pression we  many  of  us  receive  from  some  expressions  in  Mil- 
ton's "Paradise  Lost,"  and  in  Protestant  and  Roman  Catholic 
divines,  and  from  many  well-known  hymns.  It  is  the  reverse 
of  this  impression  that  we  receive  from  the  Litany.  It  is  not 
the  wrath  of  the  Father,  but  the  wrath  of  Christ,  from  which 
in  the  Litany  we  pray  to  be  delivered.  It  is  the  goodness  and 
forgiveness,  not  of  the  Father,  but  of  Christ,  that  we  entreat 
for  our  sins.  The  mind  and  purpose  of  God  is  made  known 
to  us  through  the  mind  and  purpose  of  Christ.  We  feel  this 
truth  nowhere  more  keenly  than  in  the  trials  and  sorrows  of 
life ;  and  we  therefore  express  it  nowhere  more  strongly  than 
in  the  Litany. 

2.  Again,  the  Litany  sets  before  us  in  its  true  aspect  the 
meaning  of  Kedemption.  What  is  Redemption  ?  It  is,  in 
one  word,  deliverance.  We  are  in  bondage  to  evil  habits,  in 
bondage  to  fear,  in  bondage  to  ignorance,  in  bondage  to  su- 
perstition, in  bondage  to  sin :  what  we  need  is  freedom  and 
liberty.  That  is  what  we  ask  for  every  time  we  repeat  the 
Litany  :  "  Good  Lord,  set  us  free."     Libera  nos,  Domine. 

Deliverance — how,  or  by  what  means?  By  one  part  of 
Christ's  appearance  ?  by  one  part  of  Christianity  ?  by  a  single 
doctrine  or  a  single  fact  ?  By  all — by  the  whole.  Not  by 
His  sufferings  only — not  by  His  death  only — not  by  His 
teaching  only ;  but  "  by  the  mystery  of  His  holy  incarna- 
tion— by  His  baptism — by  His  fasting — by  His  temptation — 
by  His  agony  and  bloody  sweat — by  His  precious  death  and 
burial — by  His  glorious  resurrection  and  ascension,  and  by 
the  coming  of  the  Holy  Ghost."  This  wide  meaning  of  the 
mode  of  Redemption  was  a  truth  sufficiently  appreciated  in 
the  early  aues  of  the  Church;  and  then  it  was  piece  by  piece 
divided  and  subdivided,  till  the  whole  effect  was  altered  and 
spoiled.  Let  us  go  back  once  more  in  the  Litany  to  the  com- 
plex yet  simple  whole.     Let  us  believe  more  nearly  as  we  pray. 

The  particular  forms  used  may  be  open  to  objection.  We 
might  wish  that  some  of  the  features  had  been  omitted,  or  that 


TEE  LITANT. 


223 


other  features  had  been  added.  But  there  remains  the  gene- 
ral truth— that  it  is  by  the  whole  life  and  appearance  of  Christ 
we  hope  to  be  delivered. 

Deliverance  from  what  ?     From  what  is  it  that  we  ask  to  be 
ransomed,  redeemed,  delivered?      This  also  was  well  under- 
stood in  the  early  Church,  though    sometimes    expressed  in 
strange  language.  It  was,  as  they  then  put  it,  "  deliverance  from 
the  power  of  the  devil  "—deliverance  from  that  control. over 
the  world  which  was  in  those  days  supposed  to  be  possessed  bv 
the  Evil  Spirit.     This  belief,  in  form,  has  passed  away.     We 
do  not  now  see  demons  lurking  in  every  corner.     But  the 
substance  of  the  belief  remains.     We  pray  in  the  Litany  for 
deliverance  from  evil  in  all  its  forms ;  from  evil,  moral  and 
physical ;  from  the  evil  in  our  own  hearts ;  from  the  evil  brought 
on  the  world  by  the  misgovernment,  and  anarchy,  and  wild 
passions  of  mankind ;  from  the  evils  of  sickness  and  war  and 
tempest ;  from  the  trials  of  tribulation  and  from  the  trials  of 
wealth  ;— from  all  these  it  is  that  we  ask  for  deliverance.     Each 
petition  places  before  us  some  of  the  real  evils  in  life  which 
keep  us  m  bondage.     In  proportion  as  we  get  rid  of  them  we 
share  in  Christ's  redemption.     This  is  the  object  of  the  most 
earnest  supplications  of  the  Church ;  because  it  is  the  object  of 
Christianity  itself;  because  it  is  the  purpose  for  which  Christ 
came  into  the  world ;  because,  if  He  delivers  us  not  from  these 
He  delivers  us  from  nothing;  because,  so  far  as  He  delivers  us 
from  these,  He  has  accomplished  the  work  which  He  was  sent 
to  do.     Let  us  act  and  think  more  nearly  as  we  pray. 


224  OEBISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE    ROMAN    CATACOMBS. 

The  belief  of  the  early  Christians,  that  is,  of  the  Christians 
from  the  close  of  the  first  century  to  the  conversion  of  the 
Empire  at  the  beginning  of  the  fourth,  is  a  question  which  is 
at  once  more  difficult  and  more  easy  to  answer  than  we  might 
have  thought  beforehand. 

It  is  in  one  sense  extremely  difficult. 

The  popular,  the  actual  belief  of  a  generation  or  society  of 
men  cannot  always  be  ascertained  from  the  contemporary 
writers,  who  belong  for  the  most  part  to  another  stratum.  The 
belief  of  the  people  of  England  at  this  moment  is  something 
separate  from  the  books,  the  newspapers,  the  watchwords  of 
parties.  It  is  in  the  air.  It  is  in  their  intimate  conversation. 
We  must  hear,  especially  in  the  case  of  the  simple  and  un- 
learned, what  they  talk  of  to  each  other.  We  must  sit  by  their 
bedsides;  get  at  what  gives  them  most  consolation,  what  most 
occupies  their  last  moments.  This,  whatever  it  be,  is  the  belief 
of  the  people,  right  or  wrong — this,  and  this  only,  is  their  real 
religion.  A  celebrated  Roman  Catholic  divine  of  the  present 
day  has  described,  in  a  few  short  sentences,  what  he  conceives 
to  be  the  religious  creed  of  the  people  of  England : — that  it 
consists  of  a  general  belief  in  Providence  and  in  a  future  life. 
He  is  probably  right.  But  it  is  something  quite  apart  from 
any  formal  creeds  or  confessions  or  watchwords  which  exist. 
Is  it  possible  to  ascertain  this  concerning  the  early  Christians  ? 
The  books  of  that  period  are  few  and  far  between,  and  these 
books  are,  for  the  most  part,  the  works  of  learned  scholars 
rather  than  of  popular  writers.  Can  we  apart  from  such  books 
discover  what  was  their  most  ready  and  constant  representation 
of  their  dearest  hopes  here  and  hereafter  ?  Strange  to  say,  after 
all  this  lapse  of  time  it  is  possible.  The  answer,  at  any  rate, 
for  that  large  mass  of  Christians  from  all  parts  of  the  empire 


TEE  ROMAN  CATACOMBS.  225 

tijat  was  collected  in  the  capital,  is  to  be  found  in  the  Roman 
Catacombs. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  enter  upon  the  formation  of  the  Cata- 
combs. For  a  general  view  it  may  be  sufficient  to  refer  to 
"  On  Pagan  and  Christian  Sepulture,"  in  the  "  Es-  The  Cata- 
says"  of  Dean  Milman.  For  the  details  of  the  combs, 
question  it  is  more  than  sufficient  to  refer  to  the  great  work  of 
Commendatore  De  Rossi.  It  has  been  amply  proved  by  the  in- 
vestigations of  the  last  two  hundred,  and  especially  of  the  last 
thirty  years,  that  there  were  in  the  neighborhood  of  Rome, 
from  the  first  beginning  of  the  settlement  of  the  Jews  in  the 
city,  large  galleries  dug  in  the  rock,  which  they  r.sed  for  their 
places  of  burial.  The  Christians,  following  the  example  of  the 
Jews,  did  the  same  on  a  larger  scale.  In  these  galleries  they 
wrote  on  the  graves  of  their  friends  the  thoughts  that  were 
most  consoling  to  themselves,  or  painted  on  the  walls  the 
figures  which  gave  them  most  pleasure.  By  a  singular  chance 
these  memorials  have  been  preserved  to  us  by  the  very  causes 
which  have  destroyed  so  much  beside.  The  Catacombs  were 
deserted  at  the  time  of  the  invasion  of  the  barbarians,  and  filled 
up  with  ruins  and  rubbish ;  and  from  the  sixth  to  the  seven- 
teenth century  no  one  thought  it  worth  while  to  explore  them. 
The  burial  of  Christian  antiquity  was  as  complete  as  that  of 
Pagan  antiquity,  and  the  resurrection  of  both  took  place  nearly 
at  the  same  time.  The  desertion,  the  overthrow  of  these  an- 
cient galleries,  has  been  to  the  Christian  life  of  that  time  what 
the  overthrow  of  Pompeii  by  the  ashes  of  Vesuvius  was  to  the 
Pagan  life  of  the  period  immediately  antecedent.  The  Cata- 
combs are  the  Pompeii  of  early  Christianity.  It  is  much  to  the 
credit  of  the  authorities  of  the  Roman  States  that  at  the  time 
when  the  excavations  began  they  allowed  these  monuments  to 
speak  for  themselves.  Many  questionable  interpretations  have 
been  put  upon  them,  but  in  no  respect  has  there  been  substan- 
tiated any  charge  of  wilful  falsification. 

We  confine  ourselves  to  the  simple  statement  of  the  testimony 
which  they  render  to  the  belief  of  the  second  and  third  cen- 
turies. For  this  reason,  we  exclude  from  consideration  almost, 
if  not  altogether,  those  subsequent  to  the  age  of  Constantine. 
We  merely  state  the  facts  as  they  occur ;  and  if  the  results  be 
pleasing  or  displeasing  to  the  members  of  this  or  that  school 

10* 


226  Geristian  institutions.  . 

of  modern  religious  opinion,  perhaps  it  will  be  a  suflScient  safe- 
guard that  they  will  be  almost  equally  pleasing  or  displeasing 
to  the  members  of  all  such  schools  equally. 

I.  First,  what  do  we  learn  of  the  state  of  feeling  indicated  in 
the  very  structure  of  the  Catacombs  beyond  what  any  books 
could  teach  us? 

The  Catacombs  are  the  standing  monuments  of  the  Oriental 
and  Jewish  character  even  of  Western  Christianity.  The  fact 
Their  Jewish  that  they  are  the  counterparts  of  the  rock-hewn 
character.  tombs  of  Palestine,  and  yet  more  closely  of  the 
Jewish  cemeteries  in  the  neighborhood  of  Rome,  corresponds 
to  the  fact  that  the  early  Roman  Church  was  not  a  Latin  but 
an  Eastern  community,  speaking  Greek,  and  following  the 
usages  of  Syria.  And  again,  the  ease  with  which  the  Roman 
Christians  had  recourse  to  these  cemeteries  is  an  indication  of 
the  impartiality  of  the  Roman  law,  which  extended  (as  De  Rossi 
The  toiera-  has  well  pointed  out)  to  this  despised  sect  the  same 
early  ciiris-  P^'^tection  in  respect  to  burial,  even  during  the  times 
tians.  of   persecution,  that  was  accorded  to  the  highest 

in  the  land.  They  thus  bear  witness  to  the  unconscious  foster- 
ing care  of  the  Imperial  Government  over  the  infant  Church. 
They  are  thus  monuments,  not  so  much  of  the  persecution  as 
of  the  toleration,  which  the  Christians  received  at  the  hands 
of  the  Roman  Empire. 

These  two  circumstances,  confirmed  as  they  are  from  various 
quarters,  are,  as  it  were,  the  framework  in  which  the  ideas  of 
the  Church  of  the  Catacombs  are  enshrined,  and  yet  they  are 
quite  unknown  to  the  common  ecclesiastical  histories. 

3.  A  similar  profound  ignorance  shrouded  the  existence  of 
the  Catacombs  themselves.  There  are  no  allusions  to  the  Cat- 
acombs in  Gibbon,  or  Mosheim,  or  Neander;  nor,  in  fact,  in 
any  ecclesiastical  history,  down  to  the  close  of  the  first  quarter 
of  this  century.  Dean  Milman's  "  History  of  Christianity  " 
was  the  earliest  exception.  Nor  again  is  there  any  allusion  in 
the  Fathers  to  their  most  striking  characteristics.  St.  Jerome's 
narrative  of  being  taken  into  them  as  a  child  is  simply  a  de- 
scription of  the  horror  they  inspired.  Prudentius  has  a  pass- 
ing allusion  to  the  paintings,  but  nothing  that  gives  a  notion  of 
their  extent  and  importance. 

II.  We  now  proceed  to  the  beliefs  themselves,  as  presented 


THE  ROMAN  CATACOMBS.  227 

in  the  pictures  or  inscriptions,  confining  ourselves  as  much  as 
possible  to  those  which  are  earliest  and  most  univer-  The  pio- 
sal.  But  before  entering  on  these,  let  us  glance  for  tures. 
a  moment  at  those  which,  though  belonging  to  the  latest 
years  of  this  period — the  close  of  the  third  century — yet  still 
illustrate  the  general  character  even  of  the  earlier.  The  sub- 
jects of  these  paintings  are  for  the  most  part  taken  from  the 
Bible,  and  are  as  follows:  In  the  New  Testament  they  are  the 
Adoration  of  the  Magi,  the  Feeding  of  the  Disciples,  Zacchseiis 
in  the  Sycamore,  the  Healing  of  the  Paralytic,  the  Raising  of 
Lazarus,  the  Washing  of  Pilate's  Hands,*  Peter's  Denial,  the 
Seizure  of  Peter  by  the  Jews.  In  the  Old  Testament  they  are 
the  Creation,  the  Sacrifice  of  Isaac,  the  Stag  Desiring  the 
"Water  Brooks,  the  Striking  of  the  Rock,  Jonah  and  the  Whale, 
Jonah  under  the  Gourd,  Daniel  in  the  Lions'  Den,  the  Three 
Children  in  the  Fire,  Susanna  and  the  Elders. 

On  this  selection  we  will  make  three  general  remarks. 
1.  Whilst  it  does  not  coincide  with  the  theology  and  the 
art  of  the  modern  Western  Church,  it  coincides  to  a  certain 
degree  with  the  selection  that  we  find  in  the  Eastern  Church. 
The  Raising  of  Lazarus,  for  example,  fell  completely  continuance 
out  of  the  range  of  the  Italian  painters  and  out  of  in  the  East- 
the  scholastic  theology  of  the  Middle  Ages ;  but  it  fiTthe^^'est- 
may  still  be  traced  in  the  Byzantine  traditions  as  ®™  Church, 
preserved  in  Russia.  In  one  of  the  most  ancient  chapels  of 
the  Kremlin  there  is  a  representation  of  the  mummy-like  form 
of  Lazarus  issuing  from  his  tomb,  exactly  similar  to  that  which 
appears  in  the  Roman  Catacombs.  The  Three  Children,  who 
cease  to  occupy  any  important  place  in  the  Latin  Church,  are 
repeatedly  brought  forward  in  the  Eastern  Church.  Three 
choristers  stand  in  front  of  the  altar  at  a  particular  part  of  the 
service  to  represent  them,  and  the  only  attempt  at  a  mystery  or 
miracle  play  in  the  Middle  Ages  of  Russia  was  the  erection  of 
a  large  wooden  platform  with  the  painted  appearance  of  fire 
underneath,  on  which  three  actors  stood  forth  and  played  by 
gesture  and  song  the  part  of  the  Three  Children. 


*  Tertullian  {On  the  Lorcfs  Prayer,  c.  13)  censures  strongly  the  practice  of 
washing  hands  before  prayer,  and  says  that  on  inquiry  he  found  it  was  in  imi- 
tation of  Pilate's  act. 


228  CHBI8TIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

2.  Secondly,  the  mere  fact  of  paintings  at  all  in  these  early 
Contradic-  chapels  is  in  direct  contradiction  to  the  general  con- 
t|°"  of  ■  1  demnation  of  any  painting  of  sacred  subjects  in  the 
writers.  writers  *  of  the  first  centuries.  It  is  as  if  the  popu- 
lar sentiment  had  not  only  run  counter  to  the  written  theology, 
but  had  been  actually  ignorant  of  it. 

3.  Thirdly,  the  selection  of  these  subjects,  whether  in  the 
Eastern  or  in  the  Western  Church,  is  quite  out  of  proportion 
Absence  of  to  the  choice  of  these  same  subjects  in  the  books  of 
allusion  in     Q^^  Wme  that  have  come  down  to  us.     Few  of  them 

books  or  the  .  .       ,  . 

time.  are  conspicuously  present  m  the  writers  of  the  three 

first,  or  indeed  of  the  sixteen  first  centuries ;   and  of  one  of 

them,  at  least,  the  arrest  of  Peter  by  the  Jewish  soldiers,  it  is 

not  too  much  to  say  that  there  is  no  incident  record  in  any 

extant  books  to  which  it  can  with  certainty  be  applied  at  all. 

These  points  do  not  illustrate  any  contradiction  to  the  ex- 
isting opinions  either  of  Protestant  or  Catholic  Churches  in 
modern  times.  The  subject  to  which  these  paintings  relate 
for  the  most  part  do  not  involve,  even  by  remote  implication, 
any  of  these  disputed  opinions.  But  they  indicate  a  difference 
deeper  than  any  mere  expression  of  particular  doctrines.  They 
show  that  the  current  of  early  Christian  thought  ran  in  an  alto- 
gether different  channel,  both  from  the  contemporary  writers 
of  the  early  period,  and  also  both  from  the  paintings  and  the 
writings  of  the  later  period.  In  the  collection  of  the  works  of 
the  Fathers  of  the  second  and  third  centuries,  it  is  difficult  to 
find  allusion  to  any  one  of  these  topics.  Of  the  paintings  of 
the  tenth  and  eleventh  centuries  recently  discovered  in  the 
subterranean  church  of  St.  Clement  at  Rome,  not  one  of  all 
the  numerous  series  is  identical  with  those  in  the  Catacombs. 

III.  But  this  peculiarity  of  the  Catacombs  thus  visible  to  a 
certain  extent,  even  in  the  third  century,  appears  still  more 
forcibly  when  we  confine  ourselves  to  the  earliest  chambers, 
and  to  the  most  important  figures  which  they  contain. 

There  is  one  such  chamber  especially,  which,  according  to 
the  Commendatore  De  Rossi,  is  the  earliest  that  can  be  found, 
reaching  back  to  the  beginning  of  the  second  century.     It  is 

*  See  the  summary  of  opinions  of  the  Fathers  on  art  in  the  English  transla- 
tion of  TertuUian  in  the  Library  of  the  Fathers.  (Notes  to  the  Apoloav,  vol. 
ii,  p.  110.) 


THE  ROMAN  CATACOMBS.  229 

that  commonly  known  as  the  Catacomb  of  Sts.  Nereus  and 
Achilleus,  otherwise  of  St.  Domitilla. 

In  this  chamber  there  are  three  general  characteristics  : 

1.  Everything  is  cheerful  and  joyous.     This,  to  a  certain 
degree,  pervades  all  the  Catacombs.     Although  some  of  them 
must  have  been  made  in  times  of  persecution,  yet  cheerful- 
even  in  these  the  nearest  approach  to  such  images  ^^^ss. 

of  distress  and  sufEering  is  in  the  figures  before  noticed — (and 
these  are  not  found  in  the  earliest  stage) — the  Three  Children 
in  the  Fire,  Daniel  in  the  Lions'  Den,  and  Jonah  naked  under 
the  Gourd.  But  of  the  mournful  emblems  which  belong  to 
nearly  all  the  later  ages  of  Christianity,  almost  all  are  wanting 
in  almost  all  the  Catacombs.  There  is  neither  the  cross  of  the 
fifth  or  sixth  century,  nor  the  crucifix  or  the  crucifixion  of  the 
twelfth  or  thirteenth,  nor  the  tortures  and  martyrdoms  of  the 
seventeenth,  nor  the  skeletons  of  the  fifteenth,  nor  the  cypresses 
and  death's  heads  of  the  eighteenth.  There  are,  instead, 
wreaths  of  roses,  winged  genii,  children  playing.  This  is  the 
general  ornamentation.  It  is  a  variation  not  noticed  in  ordi- 
nary ecclesiastical  history.  But  it  is  there.  There  are  two 
words  used  in  the  very  earliest  account  of  the  very  earliest 
Christian  community  to  which  the  English  language  furnishes 
no  exact  equivalent .;  one  is  their  exulting  bounding  gladness 
{ayaWia(ji<^)  ;  the  other  their  simplicity  and  smoothness  of 
feeling,  as  of  a  plain  without  stones,  of  a  field  without  furrows 
{acpsXort/?).  These  two  words  from  the  records  of  the  first 
century  *  represent  to  us  what  appears  in  the  second  century 
in  the  Roman  Catacombs.  It  may  be  doubted  whether  they 
have  ever  been  equally  represented  at  any  subsequent  age. 

2.  Connected  with  this  fact  is  another.  It  is  astonishing 
how  many  of  these  decorations  are  taken  from  heathen  sources 
and  copied  from  heathen  paintings.  There  is  Heathen 
Orpheus  playing  on  his  harp  to  the  beasts  ;  there  is  subjects. 
Bacchus  as  the  God  of  the  vintage  ;  there  is  Psyche,  the  butter- 
fly of  the  soul  ;  there  is  the  Jordan  as  the  God  of  the  river. 
The  Classical  and  the  Christian,  the  Hebrew  and  the  Hellenic, 
elements  had  not  yet  parted.  The  strict  demarcation  which 
the  books  of  the  period  would   imply  between  the  Christian 

*  Acts  ii.  46. 


230  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

Churcli  and  the  heathen  world  had  not  yet  been  formed,  or 
was  constantly  effaced.  The  Catacombs  have  more  affini- 
ty with  the  chapel  of  Alexander  Severus,  which  contained 
Orpheus  side  by  side  with  Abraham  and  Christ,  than  they 
have  with  the  writings  of  TertuUian,  who  spoke  of  heathen 
poets  only  to  exult  in  their  future  torments,  or  of  Augustine, 
who  regarded  this  very  figure  of  Orpheus  only  as  a  mischievous 
teacher  to  be  disparaged,  not  as  a  type  of  the  union  of  the 
two  forms  of  heathen  and  Christian  civilization.  It  agrees 
with  the  fact  that  the  funeral  inscriptions  are  often  addressed 
Dis  Manibus,  "  to  the  funeral  spirits." 

3.  We  see  in  the  earliest  chambers  not  only  the  beginning, 
but  in  a  certain  sense  the  end  of  early  Christian  art.  By  the 
Eaiij-  Chris-  time  we  reach  the  fourth  century  the  figures  are 
tian  art.  misshapen,  rude,  and  stiff,  partaking  of  that  deca- 
dence which  marks  the  Arch  of  Constantine,  and  which  is  devel- 
oped into  the  forms  afterwards  called  Byzantine.  But  in  the 
second  and  third  centuries,  in  the  Catacombs  of  St.  Domitilla, 
of  St.  Prtetextatus,  and  St.  Priscilla,  there  is  in  the  sweetness 
of  the  countenance,  the  depths  of  the  eyes,  the  grace  and 
majesty  of  the  forms,  an  inspiration  of  a  higher  source,  it  may 
be  partly  from  the  contact  with  the  still  living  art  of  Greece, 
it  may  be  from  the  contact  with  a  purer  and  higher  flame  of 
devotion  not  yet  burnt  out  in  fierce  controversy. 

There  is  a  figure  which  occurs  constantly  in  the  Catacombs, 
and  which  in  those  earliest  of  all  has  a  peculiar  grace  of  its 
own — that  of  the  dead  person  represented  in  the  peculiar 
position  of  prayer,  which  has  now  entirely  ceased  in  all  Chris- 
tian churches,  but  as  it  may  still  now  and  then  be  seen  in  Moham- 
medan countries — the  attitude  of  standing  with  the  hands 
stretched  out  to  receive  the  gifts  which  Heaven  would  pour 
into  them.  Such  are  the  figures  of  the  "  Oranti,"  as  they  are 
technically  called,  in  the  Catacombs,  men  or  women,  according 
to  the  sex  of  the  departed.  Such  also  were  the  holy  hands 
and  upturned  eyes  of  the  worshippers  in  the  heathen  temples 
of  Greece  or  Rome.  The  most  perfect  representation  of  this  in 
Christian  art  is,  perhaps,  that  of  the  departed  Christian  in  the 
Catacomb  of  St.  Priscilla.  The  most  perfect  representation  of 
this  in  heathen  art  is,  pcrliaps,  that  of  the  bronze  figure  of  an 
adoring  youth,  found  in  the  llhiue,  of  this  same  period  of  the 


THE  ROMAN  CATACOMBS.  231 

Roman  Empire,  and  now  in  the  Museum  at  Berlin.  An  animated 
description  wbicli  has  been  given  of  this  statue  in  a  recent 
work  devoted  to  Greek  art,  might,  witli  a  few  changes  of  ex- 
pression, be  applied  to  the  painting  of  the  departed  Christian 
in  the  Catacomb  of  St.  Priscilla.  "  His  eyes  and  arms  are 
raised  to  heaven ;  perfect  in  humanity  beneath  the  lightsome 
vault  of  heaven,  he  stands  and  prays — no  adoration  with  veiled 
eyes  and  muttering  lips — no  prostration,  with  the  putting  off 
of  sandals  on  holy  ground — no  genuflexion,  like  the  bending 
of  a  reed  waving  with  the  wind, — but  such  as  lamus  in  the  mid 
waves  of  Alpheus  might  have  prayed  when  he  heard  the  voice 
of  Phoebus  calling  to  him,  and  promising  to  him  the  twofold 
gift  of  prophecy." 

Such  is  the  ideal  of  the  worshipping  youth  of  a  Pagan 
temple  of  that  period — such  is  the  transfigured  idea  of  the 
worshipping  maiden  or  matron  in  the  Christian  Catacomb. 
Such  has  not  been  the  ideal  of  worship  in  any  later  age  of  the 
Church. 

IV.  But  the  question  might  here  be  asked,  if  these  sacred 
decorations  are  so  like  what  we  find  in  heathen  tombs  or 
houses,  how  do  we  know  that  we  are  in  a  Christian  burial- 
place  at  all  I  What  is  the  sign  that  we  are  here  in  the 
chamber  of  a  Christian  family  ?  What  is  the  test,  what  is 
the  watchword,  by  which  these  early  Christians  were  known 
from  those  who  were  not  Christians  ? 

We  have  already  indicated  some  of  the  Biblical  subjects ; 
we  also  know  well  what  we  should  find  in  the  various  later 
churches,  whether  Greek,  Latin,  Anglican,  Lutheran,  or  Non- 
conformist. Some  distinctive  emblems  we  should  find  every- 
where, either  in  books,  pictures,  or  statues.  But  none  of  these 
were  in  the  Catacombs  even  of  the  third  century :  and  in  the 
Catacombs  of  the  second  century,  not  even  those  which  are 
found  in  the  third  and  fourth  centuries. 

1.  What,  then,  is  the  test  or  sign  of  Christian  popular 
belief  that  in  these  earliest  representations  of  Christianity  is 
handed  down  to  us  as  tlie  most  cherished,  the  all-  The  Good 
sufiicing  token  of  their  creed?  It  is  very  simple.  Shepherd. 
but  it  contains  a  great  deal.  It  is  a  shepherd  in  the  bloom  of 
youth,  with  a  crook  or  a  shepherd's  pipe  in  one  hand  and  on 
his  shoulder  a  Iamb,  which  he  carefully  carries  and  holds  with 


232  CBBISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

the  other  hand.  We  see  at  once  who  it  is;  we  all  know  with- 
out being  told.  There  are  two  passages  in  two  of  the  sacred 
books,  which,  whatever  may  be  the  critical  discussion  about 
their  dates,  must  be  inferred  from  these  paintings  to  have 
been  by  that  time  firmly  rooted  in  the  popular  belief  of  the 
community.  One  is  that  from  the  Third  Gospel,  which  speaks 
of  the  shepherd  going  over  the  hills  of  Palestine  to  seek  the 
sheep  that  was  lost ;  the  other,  that  from  the  Fourth  Gospel, 
which  says,  "  I  am  the  Good  Shepherd,"  or,  as  perhaps  we 
might  venture  to  translate  it,  "  I  am  the  Beautiful  Shepherd." 
This,  in  that  earliest  chamber  or  church  of  a  Christian  family 
of  which  we  are  chiefly  speaking,  is  the  one  sign  of  Christian 
life  and  of  Christian  belief.  But  as  it  is  the  only  or  almost 
the  only,  sign  of  Christian  belief  in  this  earliest  Catacomb, 
so  it  continues  (with  those  other  pictures  of  which  we  have 
spoken)  always  the  chief,  always  the  prevailing,  sign  as  long 
as  those  burial-places  were  used.  Sometimes  it  is  with  one 
sheep,  sometimes  with  several  sheep  in  various  attitudes ;  some 
listening  to  his  voice,  some  turning  away.  Sometimes  it 
appears  in  chapels,  sometimes  on  the  tombs  themselves  ;  some- 
times on  the  tombs  of  the  humblest  and  poorest;  sometimes 
in  the  sepulchres  of  Emperors  and  Empresses — Galla  Placidia 
and  Honorius — but  always  the  chief  mark  of  the  Chj'istiiUi 
life  and  faith. 

On  the  other  hand  there  is  no  illusion  to  the  Good  Shepherd 
(with  one  exception)  in  the  writers  of  the  second  century,  and 
very  few  in  the  third;  hardly  any  in  Athanasius*  or  in 
Jerome.  If  we  come  down  much  later,  there  is  hardly  any  in 
the  "Summa  Theologise"  of  Thomas  Aquinas,  none  in  the 
,  Tridentine  Catechism,  none  in  the  Thirty-nine  Articles,  none 
in  the  Westminster  Confession.  The  only  p.  ominent  allusions 
we  find  to  this  figure  in  the  writers  of  early  times  are  drawn 
from  the  same  under-current  of  Christian  society  to  which  the 
('atacombs  themselves  belong.  One  is  the  allusion,  in  an 
angry  complaint  of  Tertullian,f  to  the  chalices  used  in  the 

*  Orijjen  (Horn.  v.  on  Jeremiah  lii.,  152)  has  a  somewhat  detailed  reference. 
His  other  allusions  are  of  the  most  perfiinrtorv  kind.  So  also  Cyprian 
(Clem.  Alex.  Peed.  i.  7,  0;  Strom,  i.  26\  has  siniilai-  slij^ht  referenoes.  There  is 
nothing;  in  Irenaeus  or  Justin,  and  only  three  passiiip:  notices  in  Tertnllian  (De 
Pritli'ittir),  c.  12;  D"  PitiJirifia.  c,  9,  16).  A  more  distinct  reference  is  in  the 
Acts  of  Perpetua  and  Felicitas, 

t  As  this  IS  a  singidar  instance  only  of  a  symbolical  representation  or  em- 


THE  ROMAN  CATACOMBS.  233 

Communion,  on  which  the  Good  Shepherd  was  a  frequent 
subject ;  the  other  is  in  the  once  popular  book  of  devotion, 
the  "  Pilgrim's  Progress"  of  the  Church  of  the  second  century, 
which  was  spread  far  and  wide  from  Italy  even  to  Greece, 
Egypt,  and  Abyssinia,  namely,  the  once  universal,  once  canoni- 
cal, once  inspired,  now  forgotten  and  disparaged,  but  always 
curious  book  called  the  "  Shepherd  of  Hernias," 

This  disproportion  between  the  almost  total  absence  of  this 
figure  in  the  works  of  the  learned,  and  its  predominant  preva- 
lence where  we  most  surely  touch  the  hearts  and  thoughts  of 
the  first  Christians — this  gives  the  answer  to  the  question, — 
What  was  the  popular  Religion  of  the  first  Christians  ?  It 
was,  in  one  word,  the  Religion  of  the  Good  Shepherd.  The 
kindness,  the  courage,  the  grace,  the  love,  the  beauty,  of  the 
Good  Shepherd  was  to  them,  if  we  may  so  say,  Prayer  Book 
and  Articles,  Creed  and  Canons,  all  in  one.  They  looked  on 
that  figure,  and  it  conveyed  to  them  all  that  they  wanted.  As 
ages  passed  on,  the  Good  Shepherd  faded  away  from  the  mind 
of  the  Christian  world,  and  other  emblems  of  the  Christian 
faith  have  taken  his  place.  Instead  of  the  gracious  and  gentle 
Pastor,  there  came  the  Omnipotent  Judge  or  the  Crucified 
Sufferer,  or  thC/Infant  in  His  Mother's  arms,  or  the  Master  in 
His  Parting  Supper,  or  the  figures  of  innumerable  saints  and 
angels,  or  the  elaborate  expositions  of  the  various  forms  of 
theological  controversy. 

These  changes  may  have  been  inevitable.  Christianity  is 
too  vast  and  complex  to  be  confined  to  the  expressions  of  any 
single  age,  or  of  any  single  nation,  and  what  was  suitable  for 
one  age  may  become  unsuited  for  another.  Still,  it  is  useful 
for  us  to  go  back  to  this  its  earliest  form,  and  ask  what  must 
have  been  the  ideas  suggested  by  it. 

(rt.).  It  was  an  instance  of  that  general  connection  just  now 
noticed  between  the  new  Christian  belief  and  the  old  Pagan 
world.      A  figure  not  unlike  the  Good  Shepherd  „ 

,,-  .  °  .  T'i/-i-         Connection 

had  from  time  to  tmie  appeared  in  tlie  Crrecian  with  hea- 
worship.      There   was  the    Hermes    Kriophorus —  *^'*^"  belief. 
Mercury  with  the  ram — as  described  by  Pausanias.     There 

blem,  so  it  is  the  only  instance  Petavius  pretends  to  find  in  all  the  three  first 
ages."  (Bingham,  viii.  8.)  So  Bingham  and  Petavius  thought.  They  little 
knew  that  the  Good  Shepherd  was  the  constant  Christian  emblem. 


234  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

were  also  the  figures  of  dancing  shepherds  in  the  tombs  of  the 
Nasones  near  Rome.  In  one  instance,  in  the  Christian  Cata- 
combs, the  Good  Shepherd  appears  surrounded  by  the  Three 
Graces,*  In  the  tomb  of  Galhi  Placidia,  He  might  well  be  the 
youthful  Apollo  playing  with  his  pipes  to  the  flocks  of  Adme- 
tus.  There  had  not  yet  sprung  up  the  fear  of  taking  as  the 
chief  symbol  of  Christianity  an  idea  or  a  figure  which  would 
be  equally  acknowledged  by  Pagans. 

{b.)  It  represents  to  us  the  joyful,  cheerful  side  of  Chris- 
tianity, of  which  we  spoke  before.  Look  at  that  beautiful, 
Ti  •  '  -  graceful  figure,  bounding  down  as  if  from  his  na- 
aspectcf  tive  hills,  with  the  happy  sheep  nestling  on  his 
Christianity  s]jo^ji(je,.^  ^it]^  the  pastoral"  pipes  in  his  hand,  bloom- 
ing in  immortal  youth.  It  is  the  exact  representation  of  the 
Italian  shepherd  as  we  constantly  encounter  him  on  the  Sabine 
hills  at  this  day,  holding  the  stray  lamb  on  his  shoulders,  with 
a  strong  hand  grasping  the  twisted  legs  as  they  hang  on  his 
breast.  Just  such  a  one  appears  on  a  fresco  in  the  so-called 
house  of  Livia,  on  the  Palatine.  That  is  the  primitive  concep- 
tion of  the  Founder  of  Christianity.  It  is  the  very  reverse  of 
that  desponding,  foreboding,  wailing  cry  that  we  have  often 
heard  in  later  days,  as  if  Bis  religion  were  going  to  die  out  of 
the  world ;  as  if  He  were  some  dethroned  prince,  whose  cause 
was  to  be  cherished  only  by  the  reactionary,  losing,  vanquished 
parties  of  the  world  or  Church.  The  popular  conception  of 
Him  in  the  early  Church  was  of  the  strong,  the  joyous  youth, 
of  eternal  growth,  of  immortal  grace. 

(c.)  It  represents  to  us  an  aspect  of  the  only  Christian  belief 
that  has  not  been  common  in  later  times,  but  of  which  we  find 
Th  ft  d  occasional  traces  even  in  the  writings  of  these  ear- 
of  early  Her  centuries,  namely,  that  the  first  object  of  the 
Christianity  ciij-igtian  community  was  not  to  repel,  but^to  in- 
clude— not  to  condemn,  but  to  save.  In  some  of  the  paintings 
of  the  Good  Shepherd,  this  aspect  of  the  subject  is  emphasized 
by  representing  the  creature  on  his  shoulder  to  be  not  a  lamb, 
but  a  kid ;  not  a  sheep,  but  a  goat. 

It  is  this  which  provokes  the  indignant  remonstrance  of 
TertuUian  in  the  only  passage  of  the  Father  which  contains  a 

*  De  Rossi,  il.  358. 


THE  ROMAS  CATACOMBS.  235 

distinct  reference  to  the  popular  representation  of  the  Good 
Shepherd ;  and  it  is  on  this  unchristian  protest  that  Matthew 
Arnold  founds  one  of  his  most  touching  poems. 

"  He  saves  the  sheep— the  goats  he  doth  not  save; 
So  spake  the  fierce  TertiilHan. 

But  she  sigh'd — 
The  infant  Church!  of  love  she  felt  the  tide 
Stream  on  her  from  her  Lord's  yet  recent  grave, 
And  then  she  smil'd,  and  in  the  Catacombs 
With  eye  suflfused,  but  heart  inspired  true, 
She  her  Good  Shepherd's  hasty  image  drew. 
And  on  his  shoulder  not  a  lamb,  but  kid." 

(rf.)  It  represents  to  us  the  extreme  simplicity  of  this  early 
belief.  It  seems  as  if  that  key-note  was  then  The  simpUc- 
struck  in  the  popular  Christianity  of  those  first  g'^arly  Chris- 
ages,  which  has  in  its  best  aspects  made  it  the  relig-  tianity. 
ion  of  little  children  and  guileless  peasants,  and  also  of  child- 
like philosophers  and  patriarchal  sages. 

There  is  nothing  here  strange,  difficult,  mysterious.  But 
there  was  enough  to  satisfy  the  early  Christian,  to  nerve  the 
suffering  martyr,  to  console  the  mourner.  When  Bosio,  the 
first  exploiter  of  the  Catacombs  in  the  seventeenth  century, 
opened  the  tomb  of  which  we  have  been  speaking,  he  was  dis- 
appointed when  he  found  only  the  Good  Shepherd,  and  went 
on  to  other  later  chambers  and  chapels,  where  there  were  other 
more  varied  pictures,  and  other  more  complicated  emblems. 
He  did  not  know  th%,t  this  one,  which  he  despised  for  its  sim- 
plicity, was  the  most  interesting  of  all,  because  the  earliest 
of  all. 

It  is  possible  that  others,  like  Bosio,  have  gone  farther  and 
fared  worse  in  their  dissatisfaction  at  so  simple  a  representa- 
tion. It  is  certain,  as  has  been  said,  that,  till  quite  modern 
times,*  the  Good  Shepherd,  and  the  ideas  which  the  figure 
suggested,  had  become  as  strange  and  rare  as  the  doctrines  of 
later  times  would  have  seemed  strange  to  the  dwellers  in  the 
Catacombs. 

2.  The  Good  Shepherd,  however,  is  not  the  only  figure 
which  pervades  the  tomb  of  Domatilla.  There  is  another 
which  also,  in  like  manner,  predominates  elsewhere. 

*  It  occurs  in  the  pictures  of  the  French  Huguenots  of  the  17th  centm-y, 
preserved  in  the  Protestant  Library  in  the  Place  vendome.  See  also  Rowland 
HiU's  use  of  it  in  his  Token  of  Love  (Life  of  Roirland  Hill,  p.  i'iS.)  In  the 
latter  half  of  this  century  it  has  become  popular  in  the  Roman  Church. 


1236  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

It  is  a  vine  painted  on  the  roof  and  on  the  walls,  with  its 
branches  spreading  and  twisting  themselves  in  every  direction, 
loaded  with  clusters  of  grapes,  and  seeming  to  reach 
over  the  whole  chamber.  And  sometimes  this 
figure  of  the  Vine  is  the  only  sign  of  Christian  belief.  In  the 
tomb  of  Constantia,  the  sister  of  the  Emperor  Constantine, 
even  the  Good  Shepherd  does  not  appear ;  the  only  decora- 
tions that  are  carved  on  her  coffin  and  painted  on  the  walls 
are  children  gathering  the  vintage,  plucking  the  grapes,  carry- 
ing baskets  of  grapes  on  their  heads,  dancing  on  the  grapes  to 
press  out  the  wine.  The  period  in  which  the  figure  of  the 
Vine  appears  is  more  restricted  than  that  in  which  the  figure 
of  the  Shepherd  appears.  But  taking,  again,  the  tomb  of 
Domitilla  as  our  main  example,  it  is  undeniable  that  if  the 
chief  thought  of  the  early  Christians  was  the  Good  Shepherd, 
the  second  was  the  Vine  and  the  Vintage. 

What  is  the  meaning  of  this  ?  There  are  three  ideas  which 
we  may  suppose  to  have  been  represented. 

(a.)  The  first  is  that  which  we  have  noticed  before — the 
joyous  and  festive  character  of  the  primitive  Christian  faith. 
Its  joyous-  In  Eastern  countries  the  vintage  is  the  great  holiday 
ness.  Qf  the  year.     In  the  Jewish  Church   there  was  no 

festival  so  gay  and  so  free  as  the  Feast  of  Tabernacles,  when 
they  gathered  the  fruit  of  the  vineyard,  aijjd  enjoyed  themselves 
in  their  green  bowers  or  tabernacles. 

Lord  Macaulay  once  described,  with  all  his  force  of  language 
and  variety  of  illustration,  how  natural  and  beautiful  was  the 
origin  of  the  heathen  legend,  which  represented  the  victorious 
march  of  Dionysus,  the  inventor  of  the  vine,  and  how  every 
one  must  have  been  entranced  at  the  coming  in  of  their  new 
guest — the  arrival  of  the  life-giving  grape — scattering  joy  and 
merriment  wherever  he  came.  Something  of  this  kind  seems 
to  have  been  the  sentiment  of  the  early  Christian  community. 
No  doubt  the  monastic  and  the  Puritan  element  existed  amongst 
them  in  germ,  and  showed  itself  in  the  writings  even  of  the 
second  and  third  centuries  ;  but  it  is  evident  from  these  paint- 
ings that  it  occupied  a  very  subordinate  place  in  the  popular 
mind  of  the  early  Roman  Christians. 

It  may  be  that  the  hideous  associations  which  northern 
drunkenness  has  imported  into  these  festive   emblems   have 


THE  ROMAN  CATACOMBS.  337 

rendered  impossible  to  modern  times  a  symbol  which  in  earlier 
days  and  in  southern  countries  was  still  permissible.  It  may 
be  that  after  the  disappointments,  controversies,  persecutions, 
mistakes,  scandals,  follies  of  Christendom  for  the  last  seventeen 
centuries,  it  is  impossible  to  imagine  that  buoyant  heart,that 
hopeful  spirit,  which  then  was  easy  and  natural.  Not  the  less, 
however,  is  it  instructive  for  us  to  see  the  joyous  gayety,  the 
innocent  Bacchanaha,  with  which  our  first  fathers  started  in 
the  dawn  of  that  journey  which  has  since  been  so  often  over- 
cast. 

{b.)  There  was,  however,  perhaps  a  deeper  thought  in  this 
figure.  When  we  see  the  vine,  with  its  purple  clusters  spread- 
ing itself  over  the  roof  of  the  chamber,  it  is  difficult  itsdifTu- 
not  to  feel  that  the  early  Christians  had  before  their  ■^*°"- 
minds  the  recollection  of  the  Parable  of  "  The  Vine  and  the 
Branches."  When  we  remark  the  juice  of  the  grapes  stream- 
ing from  the  feet  of  those  who  tread  the  wine-press  —  the 
figures,  frequent  in  the  Jewish  Scriptures,  represented  in  co- 
lossal form  over  the  portal  of  the  Jewish  Temple,  carved  still 
on  Jewish  sepulchres — it  is  the  same  image  which  culminated 
to  the  Christian  mind  in  that  sacred  apologue.  It  was  the 
account  which  they  gave  to  themselves  and  to  others  of  the 
benefits  of  their  new  religion.  What  they  valued,  what  they 
felt,  was  a  new  more^l  influence,  a  new  life  stealing  through 
their  veins,  a  new  health  imparted  to  their  frames,  a  new  cour- 
age breathing  in  their  faces,  like  wine  to  a  weary  laborer,  like 
sap  in  the  hundred  branches  of  a  spreading  tree,  like  juice  in 
the  thousand  clusters  of  a  spreading  vine. 

Where  this  life  was,  there  was  the  sign  of  their  religion. 
By  what  special  chann-l  it  came,  whether  through  books  or 
treatises,  whether  through  bishops  or  presbyters,  whether 
through  this  doctrine  or  that,  this  the  paintings  in  the  Cata- 
combs— at  least  in  the  earliest  Catacombs — do  not  tell  us. 
All  that  we  see  is  the  Good  Shepherd  on  one  side,  and  the 
spreading  Vine  and  joyous  vintage  on  the  other  side.  It  was 
an  influence  as  subtle,  as  persuasive,  as  difficult  to  fix  into  one 
uniform  groove,  as  what  we  call  the  influence  of  love  or  mar- 
riage, or  law,  or  civilization. 

(c.)  The  figure  of  the  Vine,  as  seen  in  the  Catacombs,  sug- 
gests perhaps  one  other  idea — the  idea  of  what  was  then  meant 


238  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

by  Christian  unity.  The  branches  of  the  vine  are  infinite ;  no 
other  plant  throws  out  so  many  ramifications  which 
twist  and  clasp  and  turn  and  hang  and  creep  and 
rise  and  fall  in  so  many  festoons  and  roots  and  clusters  and 
branches,  over  trees  and  houses ;  sometimes  high,  sometimes 
low,  sometimes  graceful,  sometimes  deformed,  sometimes 
straight,  sometimes  crooked.  But  in  all  there  is  the  same  life- 
giving  juice,  the  same  delicious  fragrance.  That  is  the  figure 
of  the  Vine  as  we  see  it  in  the  tomb  of  St.  Domitilla,  It  is  a 
likeness — whether  intended  or  not — of  the  variety  and  unity 
of  Christian  goodness. 

V.  There  is  one  other  subject  on  which  we  should  naturally 
The  epi-  expect  in  these  Catacombs  to  learn  some  tidings  of 
taphs.  tj^e  belief  of  the  early  Christians,  and  that  is  con- 

cerning the  future  life  and  the  departed.  This  we  gather 
partly  from  their  paintings,  but  chiefly  from  their  epitaphs. 

In  these  representations  there  are  three  such  characteristics, 
agreeing  with  what  we  have  already  noticed. 

1.  First,  there  is  the  same  simplicity.  If  for  a  moment  we 
look  at  the  paintings  of  this  subject,  in  what  form  are  the  souls 
Their  Sim-  of  the  dead  presented  to  us?  Almost  always  in  the 
plieity.  form  of  little  birds  ;    sometimes  with  bright,  gay 

plumage — peacocks,  pheasants,  and  the  like;  more  often  as 
doves.  There  was  here,  no  doubt,  the  childlike  thought,  that 
the  soul  of  man  is  like  a  bird  of  passage,  which  nestles  here  in 
the  outward  frame  of  flesh  for  a  time,  and  then  flies  away  be- 
yond the  sea  to  some  brighter,  warmer  home.  There  was  the 
thought  that  the  Christian  soul  ought  to  be  like  "  the  birds  of 
the  air,"  according  to  the  Gospel  phrase,  without  anxiety  or 
solicitude.  There  was  the  thought  also  that  each  Christian 
soul  is,  like  the  dove,  a  messenger  of  peace,  is  part  of  the 
heavenly  brood  which  flies  upwards  towards  that  Spirit  of 
which  it  is  the  emanation  and  the  likeness. 

And  when  we  come  to  the  epitaphs  of  the  ancient  dead,  we 
find  still  the  same  simple  feeling.  There  is  no  long  descrip- 
tion ;  till  the  third  century,  not  even  the  date ;  no  formal  pro- 
fession of  belief ;  no  catalogue  either  of  merits  or  demerits; 
but,  generally  speaking,  one  short  word  to  tell  of  the  tender 
sentiment  of  natural  affection  :  "  My  most  sweet  child  ;"  "  My 
most  sweet  wife  ;"  "  My  most  dear  husband  ;"  My  innocent 


THE  ROMAN  CATACOMBS.  239 

dove ;"  "  My  well-deserving  father  or  mother  ;"  "  Innocent 
little  lamb ;"  "  Such  and  such  an  one  lived  together,  without 
any  complaint  or  quarrel,  without  taking  or  giving  offence." 

Amongst  all  the  epitaphs  and  monuments  of  Westminster 
Abbey,  there  is  one,  and  one  only,  which  reminds  us  of  the 
Catacombs.  It  is  that  of  a  little  Yorkshire  girl,  who  lies  in  the 
cloisters  and  who  died  in  the  midst  of  the  troubles  which  pre- 
ceded the  Revolution  of  1688.  There  are  just  the  dates,  and 
the  name  of  her  brother,  whom  the  parents  had  lost  a  short 
time  before,  and  who  is  buried  in  St.  Helen's  Church,  in  York  : 
and  all  that  thoy  say  of  her  or  of  the  crisis  of  the  age  is, 
"  Jane  Lister,  dear  child.''''  That  is  exactly  like  the  Catacombs ; 
that  is  the  perpetual  sympathy  of  human  nature.  In  these 
words  the  whole  Christian  world,  from  the  nineteenth  century 
to  the  first,  "  is  kin„" 

And  if,  in  the  outpouring  of  this  natural  affection,  the 
survivors  from  time  to  time  refuse  to  lose  sight  of  the  dead  in 
the  other  world,  it  is  still  to  be  remarked  that  the  communion 
with  them  rests  on  this  family  bond,  and  on  none  other. 
There  is  a  touching  devotional  poem  of  modern  date,  which 
seems  more  than  any  other  to  recall  the  peculiar  feeling  of 
the  early  Catacombs  in  this  respect.  It  is  that  of  the  Russian 
poet  Chamiakoff,  on  visiting  the  nursery  of  his  dead  children: 

"  Time  was  when  I  loved  at  still  midnight  to  come, 
My  children,  to  see  yon  asleep  in  your  room ; 
Dear  children,  at  that  same  still  midnight  do  ye. 
As  I  once  prayed  for  you,  now  in  turn  pray  for  me."  * 

2.  But  besides  these  expressions  of  natural  affection,  there 
are  two  expressions  of  religious  devotion  which  constantly 
occur.  The  first  is  repeated  almost  in  every  The  idea  of 
epitaph — "/»  peaces  It  is  the  phrase  which  the  '"^s*- 
early  Christians  took  from  the  Jews.  In  the  Jewish  Cata- 
combs it  is  found  in  the  Hebrew  word — "  ShalomP  As  the 
expressions  just  quoted  indicate  the  link  between  the  belief 
of  the  early  Christians  and  the  natural  feelings  of  the  human 
heart,  so  does  this  indicate  the  link  between  their  belief  and 
that  of  ancient  Judaism.  But  its  earnest  reiteration  gives  a 
special  force  to  it.     It  conveys  their  assurance  that  whatever 

*  I  have  ventured  to  borrow  the  translation  of  the  Rev.  William  Talmer. 


240  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

else  was  the  other  world,  it  was  at  least  a  world  of  rest.  The 
wars,  the  jealousies,  the  jars,  the  contentions,  the  misapprehen- 
sions, the  disputes  of  the  Roman  Empire  and  of  the  Chris- 
tian Church,  would  there  at  last  be  finished.  "  Sleep  " — 
"repose" — is  the  word — indefinite,  but  suflflcient — for  the 
condition  of  their  departed  friends.  The  burial-places  of  the 
world  hencefortb  became  what  they  were  first  called  in  the 
Catacombs — or  at  least  first  *  called  on  an  extensive  scale — 
"  cemeteries,"  that  is,  "  sleeping-places." 

3.  There  is  one  other  word  which  occurs  frequently  after 
The  idea  of  tho  mention  of  "  peace,"  and  that  is,  "  Live  in  God,'''' 
immortality  qj.  "thou  shalt  live  in  God,"  or  "mayest  thou  live 
in  God,"  or  "  thou  livest  in  God."  This  is  the  yet  farther 
step  from  simple  innocence,  from  Oriental  resignation.  That 
is  the  early  Christians'  expression  of  the  ground  of  their  belief 
in  immortality..  We  might  perhaps  have  expected  some  more 
precise  allusion  to  the  sacred  name  by  which  they  were  espe- 
cially called,  or  to  some  of  those  Gospel  stories  of  which  we 
do,  at  least  in  the  third  century,  find  representations  in  their 
pictures.  But  in  these  epitaphs  it  is  not  so.  They  were  con- 
tent in  the  written  expression  of  their  belief  to  repose  their 
hopes  in  the  highest  name  of  all. 

These  simple  words — "  Vive  in  Deo  "  and  "  Vivas  in  Deo  " 
— sometimes  it  is  '■^  Vive  in  Bono'''' — describe  what  to  them 
was  the  object  and  the  ground  of  their  existence  for  the  first 
three  centuries.  They  last  appear  in  the  year  330,  and  after 
that  appear  no  more  again  till  quite  modern  times,  in  express 
imitation  of  them,  as  for  example  in  the  beautiful  epitaph  on 
the  late  lamented  Duke  John  of  Torlonia,  in  the  Church  of 
St.  John  Lateran.  As  a  general  rule,  nowhere  now,  either  in 
Eoman  Catholic  or  Protestant  churches,  do  we  ever  see  these 
once  universal  expressions  of  the  ancient  hope.  They  have 
been  superseded  by  more  definite,  more  detailed,  more  positive 
statements.  Perhaps  if  they  were  now  used  they  would  be 
thought  Deistic,  or  Theistic,  or  Pantheistic,  or  Atheistic.  But 
when  we  reflect  upon  them,  they  run  very  deep  down  into  the 
heart  both  of  philosophy  and  of  Christianity.     They  express 


*  Mommsen  says  that  the  words  Kot/u.TjT^pioi',  accubitorium,  are  not  exclu- 
sively Christian.    But  for  practical  purposes  they  are  so. 


I 


THE  ROMAN  CATACOMBS.  241 

the  hope  that,  because  the  Supreme  Good  lives  forever,  all 
that  is  good  and  true  will  live  forever  also.  They  express  the 
hope  that  because  the  Universal  Father  lives  forever,  we  can 
safely  trust  into  His  loving  hands  the  souls  of  those  whom  we 
have  loved,  and  whom  He,  we  cannot  help  believing,  has  loved 
also. 

Perhaps  the  more  we  think  of  this  ancient  style  of  epitaph, 
we  shall  find  that  it  is  not  the  less  true  because  now  it  is  now 
never  written  ;  not  the  less  consoling  because  it  is  so  ancient ; 
not  the  less  comprehensive  because  it  is  so  simple,  so  short, 
and  so  childlike. 

VI.  Let  us  briefly  sum  up  what  has  been  said  on  these 
representations  of  the  early  Christian  belief. 

1.  They  differ  widely  in  proportion,  in  selection,  and  in 
character,  from  the  representations  of  belief  which  we  find  in 
the  contemporaneous  Christian  authors,  and  thus  give  us  a 
striking  example  of  the  divergence  which  often  exists  between 
the  actual  living,  popular  belief,  and  that  which  we  find  in 
books.  They  differ  also  in  the  same  respects,  though  even 
more  widely,  from  the  forms  adopted,  not  only  by  ourselves, 
but  by  the  whole  of  Christendom,  for  nearly  fifteen  hundred 
years.  They  show,  what  it  is  never  without  interest  to  observe, 
the  immense  divergence  in  outward  expression  of  belief  be- 
tween those  ages  and  our  own.  The  forms  which  we  use  were 
unused  by  them,  and  the  forms  which  they  used,  for  the  most 
part  are  unused  by  us. 

2.  The  substance  of  the  faith  which  these  forms  expressed 
is  such  as,  when  it  is  put  before  us,  we  at  once  recognize  to  be 
true. 

It  might  sometimes  be  worth  while  to  ask  whether  what 
are  called  attacks  or  defences  of  our  religion  are  directed  in 
the  slightest  degree  for  or  against  the  ideas  which,  as  we  have 
seen,  constitute  the  chief  materials  of  the  faith  and  life  of  the 
early  Christians.  In  a  well-known  work  of  Strauss,  entitled 
"  The  Old  and  New  Belief,"  there  is  an  elaborate  attack  on 
what  the  writer  calls  "  the  Old  Belief."  Of  the  various  arti- 
cles of  that  "  old  belief "  which  he  enumerates,  hardly  one 
appears  conspicuously  in  the  Catacombs.  Of  the  special  forms 
of  belief  which  appear  in  the  Catacombs,  hardly  one  is  men- 
tioned in  the  catalogue  of  doctrines  so  vehemently  assailed  in 
11 


243  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

that  wort.  The  belief  of  the  Catacombs,  as  a  general  rule,  is 
not  that  which  is  either  defended  by  modern  theologians  *  or 
attacked  by  modern  sceptics. 

3.  When  we  reflect  that  these  same  ideas  which  form  the 
all-suflScing  creed  of  the  early  Church  are  not  openly  disputed 
by  any  Church  or  sect  in  Christendom,  it  may  be  worth  while 
to  ask  whether,  aftet-  all,  there  is  anything  very  absurd  in 
supposing  that  all  Christians  have  something  in  common  with 
each  other.  The  pictures  of  the  Good  Shepherd  and  of  the 
Vine,  the  devotional  language  of  the  epitaphs — whether  we 
call  them  sectarian  or  unsectarian,  denominational  or  unde- 
nominational— have  not  been  watchwords  of  parties  ;  no  pub- 
lic meetings  have  been  held  for  defending  or  abolishing  them, 
no  persecutions  or  prosecutions  have  been  set  on  foot  to  put 
them  down  or  to  set  them  up.  And  yet  it  is  certain  that,  by 
the  early  Christians,  they  were  not  thought  vague,  fleeting, 
unsubstantial,  colorless,  but  were  the  food  of  their  daily  lives, 
their  hope  under  the  severest  trials,  the  dogma  of  dogmas,  if 
we  choose  so  to  call  them,  the  creed  of  their  creed,  because 
the  very  life  of  their  life. 

*  In  the  Lateran  Museum  are  two  or  three  compartments  of  epitaphs 
classed  imder  the  head  of  "  illustrations  of  dogmas."  But  there  is  only  one 
doubtful  example  of  any  passage  relating  to  a  dogma  controverted  by  any 
Christian  Church. 


THE  CREED  OF  THE  EARLY  CHRISTIANS.      243 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  CREED  OF  THE  EARLY  CHRISTIANS. 

The  formula  into  which  the  early  Christian  belief  shaped 
itself  has  since  grown  up  into  the  various  creeds  which  have 
been  adopted  by  the  Christian  Church.  The  two  most  widely 
known  are  that  of  Chalcedon,  commonly  called  the  Nicene 
Creed,  and  that  of  the  Roman  Church,  commonly  called  the 
Apostles'.  The  first  is  that  which  pervaded  the  Eastern  Church. 
Its  original  form  was  that  drawn  up  at  Nica?a  on  the  basis  of 
the  creed  of  Ca?sarea  produced  by  Eusebius,  Large  additions 
were  made  to  it  to  introduce  the  dogmatical  question  discussed 
in  the  Xicene  Council.  It  concluded  with  anathemas  on  all 
who  pronounced  the  Son  to  be  of  a  different  Hypostasis  from 
the  Father.  Another  Creed  much  resembling  this,  but  with 
extensive  additions  at  the  close,  and  with  an  omission  of  the 
anathemas,  was  said  to  have  been  made  at  the  Constantino- 
politan  Council,  but  was  first  proclaimed  at  the  Council  of 
Chalcedon.*  It  underwent  a  yet  further  change  in  the  West 
from  the  adoption  of  the  clause  which  states  that  the  Holy 
Ghost  proceeds  from  the  Son,  as  well  as  from  the  Father. 
The  creed  of  the  Roman  Church  came  to  be  called  "the 
Apostles'  Creed,"  from  the  fable  that  the  twelve  Apostles  bad 
each  of  them  contributed  a  clause.  It  was  successively  en- 
larged. First  was  added  the  "  Remission  of  Sins,"  next  "  the 
Life  Eternal."  Then  came  \  the  "  Resurrection  of  the  Flesh." 
Lastly  was  incorporated  the  "Descent J  into  Hell,"  and  the 

*  See  Chapter  XVI. 

+  This  claus?e  unquestionably  conveys  the  belief,  so  emphatically  contra- 
dicted by  St.  Paul  (1  Cor.  xv.  35,  3G,  ,50),  of  the  Resurrection  of  the  corporeal 
frame.  It  has  been  softened  in  the  modern  rendering  into  the  "Resurrec- 
tion of  the  Sody,"  which,  although  still  open  to  misconception,  is  capable  of 
the  spiritual  sense  of  the  Apostle.  But  in  the  Baptismal  Service  the  original 
clause  is  presented  in  its  peculiarly  offensive  form. 

i  This  was  perhaps  originally  a  "synonym  for  "  He  was  buried,"  as  it  occurs 
in  those  versions  of  the  Creed  where  the  burial  is  omitted.    But  it  soon  came 


244  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

"  Communion  of  the  Saints."  It  is  observable  that  the  Creed, 
whether  in  its  Eastern  or  its  Western  form,  leaves  out  of  view 
altogether  such  questions  as  the  necessity  of  Episcopal  succes- 
sion, the  origin  and  use  of  the  Sacraments,  the  honor  due  to 
the  Virgin  Mary,  the  doctrine  of  Substitution,  the  doctrine  of 
Predestination,  the  doctrine  of  Justification,  the  doctrine  of 
the  Pope's  authority.  These  may  be  important  and  valuable, 
but  they  are  not  in  any  sense  part  of  the  authorized  creed  of 
the  early  Christians.  The  doctrine  of  Baptism  appears  in  the 
Constantinopolitan  Creed,  but  merely  in  the  form  of  a  protest 
against  its  repetition.  The  doctrine  of  Justification  might 
possibly  be  connected  with  "the  Forgiveness  of  Sins,"  but  no 
theory  is  expressed  on  the  subject.  Again,  most  of  the  suc- 
cessive clauses  were  added  for  purposes  peculiar  to  that  age, 
and  run,  for  the  most  part,  into  accidental  questions  which  had 
arisen  in  the  Church.  The  Conception,  the  Descent  into  Hell, 
the  Communion  of  Saints,  the  Resurrection  of  the  Flesh,  are 
found  only  in  the  Western,  not  in  the  original  Nicene  Creed. 
The  controversial  expressions  respecting  the  Hypostasis  and 
the  Essence  of  the  Divinity  are  found  only  in  the  Eastern, 
not  in  the  Western  Creed. 

But  there  is  one  point  which  the  two  Creeds  both  have  in 
common.  It  is  the  framework  on  which  they  are  formed. 
That  framework  is  the  simple  expression  of  faith  used  in  the 
Baptism  of  the  early  Christians.  It  is  taken  from  the  First 
Gospel,*  and  it  consists  of  "the  name  of  the  Father,  the  Son, 
and  the  Holy  Ghost." 

I.  It  is  proposed  to  ask,  in  the  first  instance,  the  Biblical 
meaning  of  the  words.  In  the  hymn  Quicunque  vtilt,  as  in 
Dean  Swift's  celebrated  "  Sermon  on  the  Trinity,"  there  is  no 
light  whatever  thrown  on  their  signification.  They  are  used 
like  algebraic  symbols,  which  would  be  equally  appropriate  if 


to  be  used  as  the  expression  for  that  vast  system— partly  of  fantastic  super- 
stition, partly  of  vahiable  tnith— involv*^!  in  tlie  dclivf^raiioe  of  the  early 
Patriarchs  by  the  entrance  of  the  Sa\iiiur  into  tlic  worlil  of  shades. 

*  It  is  not  certain  that  in  early  times  this  formula  was  in  use.  The  first  pro- 
fession of  belief  was  only  in  the  name  of  the  Ijord  Jesus  (.\cts  ii.  38,  -viii.  12, 
It).  X.  48,  xix.  .')).  In  later  times,  Cyprian  (Ep.  Ixiii.).  the  Council  of  Frejus, 
and  Pope  Nicholas  the  First  acknowledgt^d  the  validity  of  this  form.  Still  it 
soon  supei-seded  the  profession  of  belief  in  Jesus  Christ,  and  in  the  second 
century  had  become  universal.  (See  Dictionary  of  Christian  Antiqiuties,  1. 
1C3.) 


THE  CREED   OF  TEE  EARLY  CHRISTIANS.      245 

they  were  inverted,  or  if  other  words  were  substituted  for 
them.  They  give  no  answer  to  the  question  what  in  the  minds 
of  the  early  Christians  they  represented. 

1.  What,  then,  is  meant  in  the  Bible — what  in  the  experi- 
ence of  thoughtful  men — by  the  name  of  The  Father  ?  In  one 
word  it  expresses  to  us  the  whole  faith  of  what  wo  call  Natural 
Religion.  We  see  it  in  all  religions.  "Not  only  is  the  omni- 
presence of  something  which  passes  comprehension,  that  most 
distinct  belief  which  is  common  to  all  religions,  which  becomes 
the  more  distinct  in  proportion  as  things  develop,  and  which 
remains  after  their  discordant  elements  have  been  cancelled ; 
but  it  is  that  belief  which  the  most  unsparing  criticism  leaves 
unquestionable,  or  rather  makes  ever  clearer.  It  has  nothing 
to  fear  from  the  most  inexorable  logic ;  but,  on  the  contrary, 
is  a  belief  which  the  most  inexorable  logic  shows  to  be  more 
profoundly  true  than  any  religion  supposes."  *  As  mankind 
increases  in  civilization,  there  is  an  increasing  perception  of 
order,  design,  and  good-will  towards  the  living  creatures  which 
animate  it.  Often,  it  is  true,  we  cannot  trace  any  such  design  ; 
but  whenever  we  can,  the  impression  left  upon  us  is  the  sense 
of  a  Single,  Wise,  Beneficent  Mind.  And  in  our  own  hearts 
and  consciences  we  feel  an  instinct  corresponding  to  this — a 
voice,  a  faculty,  that  seems  to  refer  us  to  a  Higher  Power  than 
ourselves,  and  to  point  to  some  Invisible  Sovereign  Will,  like 
to  that  which  we  see  impressed  on  the  natural  world.  And, 
further,  the  more  we  think  of  the  Supreme,  the  more  we  try  to 
imagine  what  His  feelings  are  towards  us — the  more  our  idea 
of  Him  becomes  fixed  as  in  the  one  simple,  ail-embracing  word 
that  He  is  the  Father.  The  word  itself  has  been  given  to  us 
by  Christ.  It  is  the  peculiar  revelation  of  the  Divine  nature 
made  by  Christ  Himself.  Whereas  it  is  used  three  times  in 
the  Old  Testament,  it  is  used  two  hundred  times  in  the  New. 
But  it  was  the  confirmation  of  what  was  called  by  Tertullian 
the  testimony  of  the  naturally  Christian  soul — testimonium 
animce  naturaliter  Christiance.  The  Greek  expression  of  "the 
Father  of  Gods  and  men  "  is  an  approach  towards  it.  There 
may  be  much  in  the  dealings  of  the  Supreme  and  Eternal  that 
we  do  not  understand ;  as  there  is  much  in  the  dealings  of  an 

*  Herbert  Spencer,  First  Principles,  p.  45. 


246  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

earthly  father  that  his  earthly  children  cannot  understand. 
Yet  still  to  be  assured  that  there  is  One  above  us  whose  praise 
is  above  any  human  praise — who  sees  us  as  we  really  are — who 
has  our  welfare  at  heart  in  all  the  various  dispensations  which 
befall  us — whose  wide-embracing  justice  and  long-suffering  and 
endurance  we  all  may  strive  to  obtain — this  is  the  foundation 
with  which  everything  in  all  subsequent  religion  must  be  made 
to  agree.  "One  thing  alone  is  certain:  the  Fatherly  smile 
which  every  now  and  then  gleams  through  Nature,  bearing 
witness  that  an  Eye  looks  down  upon  us,  that  a  Heart  follows 
us."  *  To  strive  to  be  perfect  as  our  Father  is  perfect  is  the 
greatest  effort  which  the  human  soul  can  place  before  itself. 
To  repose  upon  this  perfection  is  the  greatest  support  which  in 
sorrow  and  weakness  it  can  have  in  making  those  efforts.  This 
is  the  expression  of  Natural  Religion.  This  is  the  revelation 
of  God  the  Father. 

2.  What  is  meant  by  the  name  of  the  Son? 

It  has  often  happened  that  the  conception  of  Natural  Reli- 
gion becomes  faint  and  dim.  "The  being  of  a  God  is  as  cer- 
tain to  me  as  the  certainty  of  my  own  existence.  Yet  when  I 
look  out  of  myself  into  the  world  of  men,  I  see  a  sight  which 
fills  me  with  unspeakable  distress.  The  ..  orld  of  men  seems 
simply  to  give  the  lie  to  that  great  truth  of  which  my  Avhole 
being  is  so  full.  If  I  looked  into  a  mirror  and  did  not  see  my 
face,  I  should  experience  the  same  sort  of  difficulty  that  ac- 
tually comes  upon  mu  when  I  look  into  this  living  busy  world 
and  see  no  reflection  of  its  Creator,"  j  How  is  this  difficulty 
to  be  met?  How  shall  we  regain  in  the  N.orld  of  men  the 
idea  which  the  world  of  Nature  has  suggested  to  us?  How 
shall  the  dim  rememhrance  of  our  Universal  Father  be  so 
brought  home  to  us  as  that  we  shall  not  forget  it  or  lose  it  ? 
This  is  the  object  of  the  Second  Sacred  Name  by  Avhich  God 
is  revealed  to  us.  As  in  the  name  of  the  Father  we  have  Natu- 
ral Religion — the  Faith  of  the  Natural  Conscience — so  in  the 
name  of  the  Son  we  have  Historical  Religion,  or  the  Faith  of 
the  Christian  Church.  As  "the  P'ather"  represents  to  us  God 
in  Nature,  God  in  the  heavenly  or  ideal  world — so  the  name  of 
"the  Son"  represents  to  us  God  in  History,  God  in  the  char- 

*  Renan's  Hibbert  Lectures  fo7- 1880,  p.  202. 
t  Dr.  Newman,  Apologia,  p.  241. 


THE  CREED   OF  THE  EARLY  CHRISTIANS.      247 

acter  of  man,  God  above  all,  in  the  Person  of  Jesus  Christ. 
We  know  how  even  in  earthly  relationships  an  absent  father,  a 
departed  father,  is  brought  before  our  recollections  in  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  living,  present  son,  especially  in  a  son  who  by 
the  distinguishing  features  of  his  mind  or  of  his  person  is  a  real 
likeness  of  his  father.  We  know  also  how  in  the  case  of  those 
whom  we  have  never  seen  at  all  there  is  still  a  means  of  com- 
munication with  them  through  reading  their  letters,  their 
works,  their  words.  So  it  is  in  tliis  second  great  disclosure  (^f 
the  Being  of  God.  If  sometimes  we  find  that  Nature  gives  us 
an  uncertain  sound  of  the  dealings  of  God  with  his  creatures, 
if  we  find  a  difiiculty  in  imagining  what  is  the  exact  character 
that  God  most  approves,  we  may  be  reassured,  strengthened, 
fixed,  by  hearing  or  reading  of  Jesus  Christ.  The  Mahometan 
rightly  objects  to  the  introduction  of  the  paternal  and  filial 
relations  into  the  idea  of  God,  when  they  are  interpreted  in 
the  gross  and  literal  sense.  But  in  the  moral  and  spiritual 
sense  it  is  true  that  the  kindness,  tenderness,  and  wisdom  we 
find  in  Jesus  Christ  is  the  reflection  of  the  same  kindness, 
tenderness,  and  wisdom  that  we  recognize  in  the  governance  of 
the  universe.  His  life  is  the  Word,  the  speech  that  comes  to  us 
out  of  that  eternal  silence  which  surrounds  the  Unseen  Divinity. 
He  is  the  Second  Conscience,  the  external  Conscience,  reflect- 
ing, as  it  were,  and  steadying  the  conscience  within  each  of  us. 
And  wheresoever  in  history  the  same  likeness  is,  or  has  been, 
in  any  degree  reproduced  in  human  character,  there  and  in 
that  proportion  is  the  same  effect  produced.  There  and  in 
that  proportion  is  the  Word  which  speaks  through  every  word 
of  human  wisdom,  and  the  Light  which  lightens  with  its  own 
radiance  every  human  act  of  righteousness  and  of  goodness. 
In  the  Homeric  representations  of  Divinity  and  of  Humanity, 
what  most  strikes  us  is  that,  whereas  the  human  characters  are, 
in  their  measure,  winning,  attractive,  heroic,  the  di\dne  char- 
acters are  capricious,  cruel,  revengeful,  sensual.  Such  an  in- 
version of  the  true  standard  is  rectified  by  the  identification  of 
the  Divine  nature  with  the  character  of  Christ.  If  in  Christ 
the  highest  human  virtues  are  exalted  to-their  highest  pitch, 
this  teaches  us  that,  according  to  the  Christian  view,  in  the 
Divine  nature  these  same  virtues  are  still  to  be  found.  If 
cruelty,  caprice,  revenge,  are  out  of  place  in  Christ,  they  are 


248  CHRI8TIAK  INSTITUTIONS. 

equally  out  of  place  in  God.  To  believe  in  the  name  of  Christ, 
in  the  name  of  the  Son,  is  to  believe  that  God  is  above  all 
other  qualities  a  Moral  Being — a  Being  not  merely  of  power 
and  wisdom,  but  a  Being  of  tender  compassion,  of  boundless 
charity,  of  discriminating  tenderness.  To  believe  in  the  name 
of  Christ  is  to  believe  that  no  other  approach  to  God  exists 
except  through  those  same  qualities  of  justice,  truth,  and  love 
which  make  up  the  mind  of  Christ.  "Ye  believe  in  God, 
believe  also  in  me,"  is  given  as  His  own  farewell  address.  Ye 
believe  in  the  Father,  ye  believe  in  Religion  gcnei'ally ;  believe 
also  in  the  Son,  the  Christ.  For  this  is  the  form  in  which  the 
Divine  Nature  has  been  made  most  palpably  known  to  the 
world,  in  fiesh  and  blood,  in  facts  and  words,  in  life  and  death. 
This  is  the  claim  that  Christianity  and  Christendom  have  upon 
us,  with  all  their  infinite  varieties  of  institutions,  ordinances, 
arts,  laws,  liberties,  charities — that  they  spring  forth  directly  or 
indirectly  from  the  highest  earthly  manifestation  of  Our  Un- 
seen Eternal  Father. 

The  amplifications  in  the  Eastern  and  Western  Creeds  have, 
it  is  true,  but  a  very  slight  bearing  on  the  nature  of  the  Divine 
Revelation  in  Jesus  Christ.  They  do  not  touch  at  all  (except 
in  the  expression  "Light  of  Light")  on  the  moral,  which  is  the 
only  important,  aspect  of  the  doctrine.  They  entirely  (as  was 
observed  many  years  ago  by  Bishop  Thirlwall)  "miss  the 
point."  Bishop  Pearson,  in  his  elaborate  dissertation  on  this 
article  of  the  Creed,  is  wholly  silent  on  this  subject.  These 
expositions  do  not  tell  us  whether  the  Being  of  whom  they 
speak  was  good  or  wicked,  mild  or  fierce,  truthful  or  untruth- 
ful. The  Eastern  Creed  by  its  introduction  of  the  expressions 
"for  us,"  "for  our  salvation,"  to  a  certain  extent  convoys  the 
idea  that  the  good  of  man  was  the  purpose  for  which  He  lived 
and  suffered.  But  the  Western  Creed  does  not  contain  even 
these  expressions.  The  Fifteenth  of  the  XXXIX.  Articles, 
and  by  implication  a  single  phrase  in  the  Seventeentli,  are  the 
only  ones  which  express  any  belief  in  the  moral  excellence  of 
Clhrist.  The  Second,  Third,  Fourth,  Fifth,  Thirty-first,  which 
speak  on  the  general  subject  of  His  person,  are  silent  on  this 
aspect.  The  clause  whicli  related  to  the  moral  side  of  the 
Saviour's  character,  "  Who  lived  amongst  men,"  had  been  in  the 
Palestine  Creed,  but  was  struck  out  of  the  Eastern  Creed  at  the 


THE  CREED   OF  THE  EABLY   CHRISTIANS.      249 

Council  of  Nicfea.  But  nevertheless  the  original  form  of  the 
belief  in  "the  only  Son"  remains  intact  and  acknowledged  by 
all.  It  contains  nothing  contrary  to  His  moral  perfections;  and 
it  may  admit  them  all.  We  take  the  story  of  the  Gospels  as  it 
has  appeared  to  Voltaire,  Rousseau,  Goethe.  We  take  it  in 
those  parts  which  contain  least  matter  for  doubts  and  difficul- 
ties. We  speak  of  "the  method"  and  "the  secret"  of  Jesus 
as  they  have  been  presented  to  us  in  the  most  modern  works. 
"The  origin  of  Christianity  fonns  the  most  heroic  episode  of 
the  history  of  humanity.  .  .  .  Never  was  the  religious  con- 
sciousness more  eminently  creative ;  never  did  it  lay  down  with 
more  absolute  authority  the  law  of  the  future."  *  It  is  impor- 
tant to  notice  that  the  testimonies  to  the  greatness  of  this 
historical  revelation  are  not  confined  to  the  ordinary  writers  on 
the  subject,  but  are  even  more  powerfully  expressed  in  those 
who  are  above  the  slightest  suspicion  of  any  theological  bias. 

It  is  not  the  Bishop  of  Gloucester  and  Bristol,  it  is  Matthew 
Arnold,  who  affirms, — 

"  Try  all  the  ways  to  righteousness  you  can  think  of,  and  you 
will  find  that  no  way  brings  you  to  it  except  the  way  of  Jesus,  but 
that  this  way  does  bring  you  to  it." 

It  is  not  Bishop  Lightfoot,  it  is  the  author  of  "  Supernatural 
Religion,"  who  asserts, — 

"The  teaching  of  Jesus  carried  morality  to  the  sublimest  point 
attained,  or  even  attainable  by  humanity.  The  influence  of  His 
spiriiual  religion  has  been  rendered  doubly  great  by  the  unparal- 
leled purity  and  elevation  of  His  own  character.  Surpassing  in 
His  sublime  simplicity  and  earnestness  the  moral  grandeur  of 
Chakya-Mouni,  and  putting  to  the  blush  the  sometimes  sullied, 
though  generally  admirable,  teaching  of  Socrates  and  Plato,  and 
the  whole  round  of  Greek  philosophers,  He  presented  the  rare  spec- 
tacle of  a  life,  so  far  as  we  can  estimate  it,  uniformly  noble  aud 
consistent  with  His  own  lofty  principles,  so  that  the  '  imitation  of 
Christ '  has  become  almost  the  final  word  in  the  preaching  of  His 
religion,  and  must  continue  to  be  one  of  the  most  powerful  ele- 
ments of  its  permanence." 

It  is  not  Lord  Shaftesbury,  it 's  the  author  of  "  Ecce  Homo," 
who  says, — 

"  The  story  of  His  life  will  always  remain  the  one  record  in 

•  BjazMa's  Hibbert  Led  ares  for  1880,  p.  8. 
11* 


250  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

which  the  moral  perfection  of  man  stands  revealed  in  its  root  and 
iniity,  the  hidden  spring  made  palpably  manifest  by  which  the 
whole  machine  is  moved.  And  as,  in  the  will  of  God,  this  uniqu( 
man  was  elected  to  a  unique  sorrow,  and  holds  as  undisputed  a 
sovereignty  in  suffering  as  in  self-devotion,  all  lesser  examples  and 
lives  will  forever  hold  a  suboi'dinate  place,  and  serve  chiefly  to 
reflect  light  on  the  central  and  original  example." 

It  is  no  Bampton  lecturer,  it  is  John  Stuart  Mill,  avIio  says, — 

"It  is  the  God  incarnate,  more  than  the  God  of  the  Jews  or  of 
Nature,  who,  being  idealized,  has  taken  so  great  and  salutary  a 
hold  on  the  modern  mind.  And  whatever  else  may  be  taken  away 
from  us  by  rational  criticism,  Christ  is  still  left, — a  unique  figure, 
not  more  unlike  all  His  precursors  than  all  His  followers,  even 
those  who  had  the  direct  benefit  of  His  teaching. " 

It  is  not  Lacordaire,  it  is  Renan,  who  affirms, — 

"In  Jesus  was  condensed  all  that  is  good  and  elevated  in  our 
nature.  .  .  .  God  is  in  Him.  He  feels  Himself  with  God,  and 
He  draws  from  His  own  heart  what  He  tells  of  His  Father.  He 
lives  in  the  bosom  of  God  by  the  intercommunion  of  every  mo- 
ment."* 

Those  few  years  in  which  that  Life  was  lived  on  earth  gath- 
ered up  all  the  historical  expressions  of  religion  before  and 
after  into  one  supreme  focus.  The  "  Word  made  flesh " 
was  the  union  of  religion  and  morality,  was  the  declaration 
that  in  the  highest  sense  the  Image  of  Man  was  made  after  the 
Image  of  God.  "  Sterna  sapientia  sese  in  omnibus  rebus, 
maxime  in  humana  mcnte,  omnium  maxime  in  Christo  Jesu  man- 
ifestavit."  j  In  the  gallery  tlirough  which,  in  Goethe's  "  Wil- 
hclm  Meister,"  the  student  is  led  to  understand  the  origin  and 
meaning  of  religion,  he  is  taught  to  see  in  the  child  Avhich  looks 
upwards  the  reverence  for  that  which  is  above  us — that  is,  the 
worship  of  the  Father.  "  This  religion  we  denominate  the 
Ethnic ;  it  is  the  religion  of  the  nations,  and  the  first  hajipy 
deliverance  from  a  degrading  fear."  He  is  taught  to  see  in 
the  child  which  looks  downwards  the  reverence  for  that  Avhich 
is  beneath  us.  "  This  we  name  the  Christian.  What  a  task 
it  was  ....  to  recognize  humility  and  poverty,  mockery  and 
despising,  disgrace  and  wretchedness  and  suffering — to  recog- 

*  This  series  of  extracts  is  quoted  from  an  admirable  sermon  by  Mr.  Muir, 
preaclied  before  the  Synod  of  Lothian  and  Tweeddale  November  5,  1879. 
t  Spinoza,  Ep.  xxi.  vol,  iii.  p.  195. 


THE  CREED   OF  THE  EARLY  CHRISTIANS.      251 

nize  these  things  as  divine."  This  is  the  value  of  what  we 
call  Historical  Religion.  This  is  the  eternal,  never-dying  truth 
of  the  sacred  name  of  the  Son. 

3.  But  there  is  yet  a  third  manifestation  of  God.  Natural 
religion  may  become  vague  and  abstract.  Historical  religion 
may  become,  as  it  often  has  become,  perverted,  distorted,  ex- 
hausted, formalized;  its  external  proofs  may  become  dubious, 
its  inner  meaning  may  be  almost  lost.  There  have  been  often- 
times Christians  who  were  not  like  Christ — a  Christianity 
which  was  not  the  religion  of  Christ.  But  there  is  yet  another 
aspect  of  the  Divine  Nature.  Besides  the  reverence  for  that 
which  is  above  us,  and  the  reverence  for  that  which  is  beneath 
us,  there  is  also  the  reverence  for  that  which  is  within  us. 
There  is  yet  (if  we  may  venture  to  vary  Goethe's  parable) 
another  form  of  Religion,  and  that  is  Spiritual  Religion.  As 
the  name  of  the  Father  represents  to  us  God  in  Nature,  as  the 
name  of  the  Son  represents  to  us  God  in  History,  so  the  name 
of  the  Holy  Ghost  represents  to  us  God  in  our  own  hearts  and 
spirits  and  consciences.  This  is  the  still,  small  voice — stillest 
and  smallest,  yet  loudest  and  strongest  of  all — which,  even 
more  than  the  woi.ders  of  nature  or  the  wonders  of  history, 
brings  us  into  the  nearest  hai'mony  with  Him  who  is  a  Spirit — 
who,  when  His  closest  communion  with  man  is  described,  can 
only  be  described  as  the  Spirit  pleading  with,  and  dwelling  in, 
our  spirit.  When  Theodore  Parker  took  up  a  stone  to  throw 
at  a  tortoise  in  a  pond,  he  felt  himself  restrained  by  something 
within  him.  He  went  home  and  asked  his  mother  what  that 
something  was.  She  told  him  that  this  something  was  what 
was  commonly  called  conscience,  but  she  preferred  to  call  it 
the  voice  of  God  within  him.  This,  he  said,  was  the  turning- 
point  in  his  life,  and  this  was  his  mode  of  accepting  the  truth 
of  the  Divinity  of  the  Eternal  Spirit  that  speaks  to  our  spirits. 
When  Arnold  entered  with  all  the  ardor  of  a  great  and  gener- 
ous nature  into  the  beauty  of  the  natural  world,  he  added :  "  If 
we  feel  thrilling  through  us  the  sense  of  this  natural  beauty, 
what  ought  to  be  our  sense  of  moral  beauty, — of  humbleness, 
and  truth,  and  self-devotion,  and  love  ?  Much  more  beautiful, 
because  more  truly  made  after  God's  image,  are  the  forms  and 
colors  of  kind  and  wise  and  holy  thoughts  and  words  and 
actions — m  )re  truly  beautiful  is  one  hour  of  an  aged  peasant's 


252  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

patient  cheerfulness  and  faith  than  the  most  glorious  scene 
which  this  earth  can  show.  For  this  moral  beauty  is  actually, 
so  to  spealv,  God  Himself,  and  not  merely  His  work.  His  liv- 
ing and  conscious  servants  are — it  is  permitted  us  to  say  so — 
the  temples  of  which  the  light  is  God  Himself." 

What  is  here  said  of  the  greatness  of  the  revelation  of  God 
in  the  moral  and  spiritual  sphere  over  His  revelation  in  the 
physical  world,  is  true  in  a  measure  of  its  greatness  over  His 
revelation  in  any  outward  form  or  fact,  or  ordinance  or  word. 
To  enter  fully  into  the  significance  of  what  is  sometimes  called 
the  Dispensation  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  we  must  grasp  the  full 
conception  of  what  in  the  Bible  is  meant  by  that  sacred  word, 
used  in  varying  yet  homogeneous  senses,  and  all  equally  in- 
tended by  the  Sacred  Name  of  which  we  are  speaking.  It 
means  the  Inspiring  Breath,*  without  which  all  mere  forms 
and  facts  are  dead,  and  by  which  all  intellectual  and  moral 
energy  lives.  It  means  \  the  inward  spirit  as  opposed  to  the 
outward  letter.  It  means  the  freedom  of  the  spirit,  which 
blows  like  the  air  of  heaven  where  it  listeth,  and  which, 
wherever  it  prevails,  gives  liberty.  J  It  means  the  power  and 
energy  of  the  spirit,  which  rises  above  the§  weakness  and 
weariness  of  the  flesh — which,  in  the  great  movements  of 
Providence,  ||  like  a  mighty  rushing  wind,  gives  life  and  ^dg•or 
to  the  human  soul  and  to  the  human  race. 

"  One  accent  of  the  Holy  Ghost 
The  heedless  world  has  never  lost." 

To  believe  in  a  Presence^  within  us  pleading  with  our 
prayers,  groaning  with  our  groans,  aspiring  witli  our  aspira- 
tions— to  believe  in  the  Divine  supremacy  of  conscience — to 
believe  that  the  spirit  is  above  the  letter — to  believe  that  the 
substance  is  above  the  form** — to  believe  that  the  meaning  is 
more  important  than  the  words — to  believe  that  truth  is 
greater  than  authority  or  fashion  or  imagination,! f  and  will  at 
last  prevail — to  believe  that  goodness  and  justice  and  love  are 

*  Gen.  i.  2,  vi.  3;  Exod.  xxxv.  31;  Judges  xi.  29,  xiii.  2.5,  xiv.  6,  19,  xv.  14;  Isa. 
Ixi.  1:  Eph.  i.  12,  iii.  12,  xxxiii.  14;  Luke  iv.  18;  John  i.  33. 
+  Psalm  li.  10,  11,  12;  2Cor.  iii.  6.  t  John  iii.  8;  2  Cor.  ill.  28. 

§  Matt.  xxvi.  41.  It  Acts  ii.  4,  17. 

H  Rom.  viii.  16,  26;  Eph.  ii.  18.  **  John  iv.  35. 

+t  Gal.  V.  22;  Eph.  v.  9. 


THE  CREED  OF  THE  EARLY  CHRISTIANS.      253 

the  bonds  of  perfectness,*  without  which  whosoever  Uveth  is 
counted  dead  though  he  live,  and  which  bind  together  those 
who  are  divided  in  all  other  things  whatsoever — this,  according 
to  the  Biblical  uses  of  the  word,  is  involved  in  the  expression : 
"  I  believe  in  the  Holy  Ghost."  In  this  sense  there  is  a  close 
connection  between  the  later  additions  of  the  Creeds  and  the 
original  article  on  which  they  depend.  The  Universal  Church, 
the  Forgiveness  of  Sins,  are  direct  results  of  the  influence  of 
the  Divine  Spirit  on  the  heart  of  man.  The  hope  of  "  the 
Resurrection  of  the  Dead  and  of  the  Life  of  the  World  to 
come,"  as  expressed  in  the  Eastern  Creed,  are  the  best  ex- 
pressions of  its  vitality.  The  Communion  of  Saints  in  the 
Western  Creed  is  a  beautiful  expression  of  its  pervasive  force. 
Even  the  untoward  expression,  "  the  Resurrection  of  the 
flesh,"  may  be  taken  as  an  awkward  indication  of  the  same 
aspiration  for  the  triumph  of  mind  over  matter. 

II.  Such  is  the  significance  of  these  three  Sacred  Names  as  we 
consider  them  apart.  Let  us  now  consider  what  is  to  be  learned 
from  their  being  thus  made  the  summary  of  Religion. 

1.  First  it  may  be  observed  that  there  is  this  in  common 
between  the  Biblical  and  the  scholastic  representations  of  the 
doctrine  of  the  Trinity.  They  express  to  us  the  comprehen- 
siveness and  diversity  of  the  Divine  Essence.  We  might  per- 
haps have  thought  that  as  God  is  One,  so  there  could  be  only 
one  mode  of  conceiving  Him,  one  mode  of  approaching  Ilim. 
But  the  Bible,  when  taken  from  first  to  last  and  in  all  its  parts, 
tells  us  that  there  is  yet  a  greater,  wider  view.  The  nature  of 
God  is  vaster  and  more  complex  than  can  be  embraced  in  any 
single  formula.  As  in  His  dealings  with  men  generally,  it  has 
been  truly  said  that 

"  God  doth  fulfil  Himself  in  many  ways, 
Lest  one  good  custom  should  corrupt  the  world," 

80  out  of  these  many  ways  and  many  names  we  learn  from  the 
Bible  that  there  are  especially  these  three  great  revelations, 
these  three  ways  in  which  He  can  be  approached.  None  of 
them  is  to  be  set  aside.  It  is  true  that  the  threefold  name  of 
which  we  are  speaking  is  never  in  the  Bible  brought  forward 
in  the  form  of  an  unintelligible  mystery.      It  is  certain  that 

*  John  xiv.  17,  26;  xv.  26;  xvi.  13, 


254  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

the  only  place*  where  it  is  put  before  as  as  an  arithmetical 
enigma  is  now  known  to  be  spurious.  Yet  it  is  still  the  fact 
that  the  indefinite  description  of  the  Power  that  governs  all 
things  is  a  wholesome  rebuke  to  that  readiness  to  dispose  of 
the  whole  question  of  the  Divine  nature,  as  if  God  were  a 
man,  a  person  like  ourselves.  The  hymn  of  Reginald  Heber, 
which  is  one  of  the  few  in  which  the  feeling  of  the  poet  and 
the  scholar  is  interwoven  with  the  strains  of  simple  devo- 
tion— 

"  Holy,  holy,  holy,  Lord  God  Almighty" — 

refuses  to  lend  itself  to  any  anthropomorphic  speculations, 
and  takes  refuge  in  abstractions  as  much  withdrawn  from  the 
ordinary  figures  of  human  speech  and  metaphor,  as  if  it  had 
been  composed  by  Kant  or  Hegel.  To  acknowledge  this 
triple  form  of  revelation,  to  acknowledge  this  complex  aspect 
of  the  Deity,  as  it  runs  through  the  multiform  expressions  of 
the  Bible — saves,  as  it  were,  the  awe,  the  reverence  due  to  the 
Almighty  Ruler  of  the  universe,  tends  to  preserve  the  balance 
of  truth  from  any  partial  or  polemical  bias,  presents  to  us  not 
a  meagre,  fragmentary  view  of  only  one  part  of  the  Divine 
Mind,  but  a  wide,  catholic  summary  of  the  whole,  so  far  as 
nature,  history,  and  experience  permit.  If  we  cease  to  think 
of  the  Universal  Father,  we  become  narrow  and  exclusive. 
If  we  cease  to  think  of  the  Founder  of  Christianity  and  of 
the  grandeur  of  Christendom,  we  lose  our  hold  on  the  great 
historic  events  which  have  swayed  the  hopes  and  affections  of 
man  in  the  highest  moments  of  human  progress.  If  we  cease 
to  think  of  the  Spirit,  we  lose  the  inmost  meaning  of  Creed 
and  Prayer,  of  Church  and  Bible,  of  human  character,  and  of 
vital  religion.  In  that  apologue  of  Goethe  before  quoted, 
when  the  inquiring  student  asks  his  guides  who  have  shown 
him  the  three  forms  of  reverence,  "  To  which  of  these  religions 
do  you  adhere?"  "To  all  the  three,"  they  reply,  "for  in 
their  union  they  produce  the  true  religion,  which  has  been 
adopted,  though  unconsciously,  by  a  great  part  of  the  world." 
"  How,  then,  and  where  ?  "  exclaimed  the  inquirer.  "  In  the 
Creed,"  replied  they.  "  For  the  first  article  is  ethnic,  and  be- 
longs to  all  nations.     The  second  is  Christian,  and  belongs  to 

•  1  John  V,  7. 


TEE  CREED   OF  THE  EARLY  CHRISTIANS.     255 

those  struggling  with  affliction,  glorified  in  affliction.  The 
third  teaches  us  an  inspired  communion  of  saints.  And 
should  not  the  three  Divine  Persons  *  justly  be  considered  as 
m  the  highest  sense  One  ? " 

2.  And  yet  on  the  other  hand,  when  we  pursue  each  of 
these  sacred  words  into  its  own  recesses,  we  may  be  thankful 
that  we  are  thus  allowed  at  times  to  look  upon  each  as  though 
each  for  the  moment  were  the  whole  and  entire  name  of  which 

r  T  '".  T'^}-  ^^'^'''  ^'^  '"  ^h«  sanctuaries  of  the  old 
churches  of  the  East  on  the  Mount  Athos  sacred  pictures  in- 
tended to  represent  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  in  which  as 
the  spectator  stands  at  one  side,  he  sees  only  the  figure  of  Our 
Saviour  on  the  Cross,  as  he  stands  on  the  other  side  he  sees 
only  the  Heavenly  Dove,  as  he  stands  in  the  front  he  sees 
only  the  Ancient  of  Days,  the  Eternal  Father.  So  it  is  with 
the  representations  of  this  truth  in  the  Bible,  and,  we  may 
aad,  in  the  experiences  of  religious  life 

Sometimes,    as   in    the    Old   Testament,   especially  in    the 
Psalms,  we  are  alone  with  God,  we  trust  in  Him,  we  are  His 
and  He  IS  ours      The  feeling  that  He  is  our  Father,  and  that 
to  fh-'l     f  ^^- ^^''"^#1  '^"-^^ffi^i"g-     We  need  not  he  afraid  so 
Himllf       ?'T\i  ^;'?t^^'^''  «ther  disclosures  He  has  made  of 
H  mself  are  but  the  filling  up  of  this  vast  outline.     Whatever 
other  belief  we  have  or  have  not,  cling  to  this.     By  this  faith 
h  ed  many  in  Jewish  times,  who  obtained  a  good  Report,  even 
when  they  had  not  received  the  promise.      By  this  faith  have 
hved    nr.ny  a   devout    sage    and  hero   of  the  ancient   world 
whom   He   assuredly  will  not  reject.     So  long  as  we  have  a 
hope   that  this   Supreme  Existence  watches  over  the  human 
race-so    long    as    this    great    Ideal    remains    before    us,  the 
material   world    has    not   absorbed   our  whole  being,  ha    not 
obscured  the  whole  horizon.  ^ 

Sometimes,    again,    as   in    the    Gospels    or    in   particular 
moments  of  life,  we  see  no  revelation  of  God  except  in  the 

dumb,  to    whom    nature    is   dark,  but  who   find  in  the  life 
of  Jesus   Christ  all  that  they  need.     He  is  to  them  the  all 

vidual  beine:s.  but  in  th/a^nl^L'st  o'f' Wosla^i?''r%™of=o?^^ 


2o6  OHBISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

in  all,  tlie  True,  the  Holy,  the  express  image  of  the  Highest. 
We  need  not  fear  to  trust  Him.  The  danger  hitherto  has  been 
not  that  we  can  venerate  Him  too  much,  or  that  we  can  think 
of  Him  too  much.  The  error  of  Christendom  has  far  more 
usually  been  that  it  has  not  thought  of  Him  half  enough — that 
it  has  put  aside  the  mind  of  Christ,  and  taken  in  })lace  thereof 
the  mind  of  Augustine,  Aquinas,  Calvin,  great  in  their  way, — 
but  not  the  mind  of  Him  of  whom  we  read  in  Matthew,  Mark, 
Luke,  and  John.  Or  if  we  should  combine  with  the  thought 
of  Him  the  thought  of  others  foremost  in  the  religious  history 
of  mankind,  we  have  His  own  command  to  do  so,  so  far  as 
they  are  the  likenesses  of  Himself,  or  so  far  as  they  convey  to 
us  any  sense  of  the  unseen  world,  or  any  lofty  conception  of 
human  character.  With  the  early  Christian  writers,  we  may 
believe  that  the  Word,  the  Wisdom  of  God  which  appeared 
in  its  perfection  in  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  had  appeared  in  a  meas- 
ure in  the  examples  of  virtue  and  wisdom  which  had  been  seen 
before  His  coming.  On  the  same  principle  we  may  apply  this 
to  those  who  have  appeared  since.  He  has  Himself  told  us 
that  in  His  true  followers  He  is  with  mankind  to  the  end  of 
the  world.  In  the  holy  life,  in  the  courageous  act,  in  the  just 
law,  is  the  Real  Presence  of  Christ.  Where  these  are,  in  pro- 
portion as  they  recall  to  us  His  divine  excellence,  there,  far 
more  than  in  any  consecrated  form  or  symbol,  is  the  true  wor- 
ship due  from  a  Christian  to  his  Master. 

Sometimes,  again,  as  in  the  Epistles,  or  in  our  own  solitary 
communing  with  ourselves,  all  outward  manifestations  of  the 
Father  and  of  the  Son,  of  outward  nature  and  of  Christian 
communion,  seem  to  be  withdrawn,  and  the  eye  of  our  mind 
is  fixed  on  the  Spirit  alone.  Our  light  then  seems  to  come 
not  from  without  but  from  within,  not  from  external  evidence 
but  from  inward  conviction.  That  itself  is  a  divine  revelation. 
For  the  Spirit  is  as  truly  a  manifestation  of  God  as  is  the  Son 
or  the  Father.  The  teaching  of  our  own  heart  and  conscience 
is  enough.  If  we  follow  the  promptings  of  truth  and  purity, 
of  justice  and  humility,  sooner  or  later  we  shall  come  back  to 
the  same  Original  Source.  The  witness  of  the  Spirit  of  all 
goodness  is  the  same  as  the  witness  of  the  life  of  Jesus,  the 
same  as  the  witness  of  the  works  of  God  our  Creator. 

3.  This  distinction,  which  applies  to  particular  wants  of  the 


THE  CREED  OF  THE  EABLT  CHRISTIANS.     257 

life  of  each  man,  may  be  especially  traced  in  the  successive 
stages  of  the  spiritual  growth  of  individuals  and  of  the  human 
race  itself.  There  is  a  beautiful  poem  of  a  gifted  German 
poet  of  this  century,  in  which  he  describes  his  wanderings  in 
the  Hartz  Mountains,  and  as  he  rests  in  the  house  of  a  moun- 
tain peasant,  a  little  child,  the  daughter  of  the  house,  sits  at 
his  feet,  and  looks  up  in  his  troubled  countenance,  and  asks, 
*'Dost  thou  believe  in  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy 
Ghost?"  He  makes  answer  in  words  which  must  be  read  in 
the  original  to  see  their  full  force.  He  says  :  "  When  I  sat  as 
a  boy  on  my  mother's  knees,  and  learned  from  her  to  pray,  I 
believed  on  God  the  Father,  who  reigns  aloft  so  great  and 
good,  who  created  the  beautiful  earth  and  the  beautiful  men 
and  women  that  are  upon  it,  who  to  sun  and  moon  and  stars 
foretold  their  appointed  course.  And  when  I  grew  a  little 
older  and  bigger,  then  I  understood  more  and  more,  then  I 
took  in  new  truth  with  my  reason  and  my  understanding,  and 
I  belicTed  on  the  Son — the  well-beloved  Son,  who  in  His  love 
revealed  to  us  what  love  is,  and  who  for  His  reward,  as  always 
happens,  was  crucified  by  the  senseless  world.  And  now  that 
I  am  grown  up,  and  that  I  have  read  many  books  and  travelled 
in  many  lands,  my  heart  swells,  and  with  all  my  heart  I  be- 
lieve in  the  Holy  Ghost,  the  Spirit  of  God.  It  is  this  Spirit 
which  works  the  greatest  of  miracles,  and  shall  work  greater 
miracles  than  we  have  yet  seen.  It  is  this  Spirit  which  breaks 
down  all  the  strongholds  of  oppression  and  sets  the  bondsmen 
free.  It  is  this  Spirit  which  heals  old  death-wounds  and 
throws  into  the  old  law  new  life.  Through  this  Spirit  it  is 
that  all  men  become  a  race  of  nobles,  equal  in  the  sight  of 
God.  Through  this  Spirit  are  dispersed  the  black  clouds  and 
dark  cobwebs  that  bewilder  our  hearts  and  brains." 

"  A  thousand  knights  in  armor  clad 

Hath  the  Holy  Ghost  ordained, 
All  His  work  and  will  to  do. 

By  His  living  force  sustained. 
Bright  their  swords,  their  baiyiers  bright; 
Who  would  not  be  ranked  a  knight, 

Foremost  in  that  sacred  host? 
Oh,  whate'er  our  race  or  creed. 
May  we  be  such  knights  indeed, 

Soldiers  of  the  Holy  Ghost." 

III.  The  name  of  the  Father,  the   Son,  and  the  Holy  Ghost 
will  never  cease  to  be  the  chief  expression  of  Christian  belief, 


258  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

and  it  has  been  endeavored  to  show  what  is  the  true  meaning 
of  them.  The  words  probably  from  the  earUest  time  fell  short 
of  this  high  signification.  Even  in  the  Bible  they  needed  all 
the  light  which  experience  could  throw  upon  them  to  suggest 
the  full  extent  of  the  meaning  of  which  they  are  capable.  But 
it  is  believed  that  on  the  whole  they  contain  or  suggest 
thoughts  of  this  kind,  and  that  in  this  development  of  their 
meaning,  more  than  in  the  scholastic  systems  built  upon  them 
or  beside  them,  lies  their  true  vitality. 

"  Apparet  domus  intus,  et  atria  longa  patescunt." 

The  true  interest  of  the  collocation  of  these  three  words  in  the 
Baptismal  formula  instead  of  any  others  that  might  have 
found  a  place  there,  is  not  that  the  Christians  of  the  second 
or  third  century  attached  to  them  their  full  depth  of  meaning, 
but  that  they  are  too  deeply  embedded  in  the  Biblical  records 
to  have  been  effaced  in  those  ages  by  any  heterogeneous 
speculation,  and  that,  when  we  come  to  ask  their  meaning, 
they  yield  a  response  which  the  course  of  time  has  rather 
strengthened  than  enfeebled.  However  trite  and  common- 
place appear  to  us  the  truths  involved  in  them,  they  were  far 
from  obvious  to  those  early  centuries,  which  worked  upon 
them  for  the  most  part  in  senses  quite  unlike  the  profound 
religious  revelations  which  are  becoming  to  us  so  familiar. 
And  then  there  still  remains  the  universal  and  the  deeper 
truth  within.  In  Christianity  nothing  is  of  real  concern  ex- 
cept that  which  makes  us  wiser  and  better  ;  everything  which 
does  make  us  wiser  and  better  is  the  very  thing  which  Chris- 
tianity intends.  Therefore  even  in  these  three  most  sacred 
words  there  is  yet,  besides  all  the  other  meanings  which  we 
have  found  in  them,  the  deepest  and  most  sacred  meaning  of 
all — that  which  corresponds  to  them  in  the  life  of  man.  Many 
a  one  has  repeated  this  Sacred  Name,  and  yet  never  fulfilled 
in  himself  the  truths  which  it  conveys.  Some  have  been  un- 
able to  repeat  it,  and  yet  have  grasped  the  substance  which 
alone  gives  to  it  a  spiritual  value.  What  John  Bunyan  said  on 
his  death-bed  concerning  prayer  is  equally  true  of  all  religious 
forms :  "  Let  thy  heart  be  without  words  rather  than  thy 
words  without  heart."  Wherever  we  arc  tauffht  to  know  and 
understand  the  real  nature  of  the  world  in  which  our  lot  is 


TEE  CREED  OF  THE  EARLY  CHRISTIANS.     259 

cast,  there  is  a  testimony,  however  humble,  to  the  name  of  the 
Father  ;  wherever  we  are  taught  to  know  and  admire  the 
highest  and  best  of  human  excellence,  there  is  a  testimony  to 
the  name  of  the  Son  ;  wherever  we  learn  the  universal  appre- 
ciation of  such  excellence,  there  is  a  testimony  to  the  name  of 
the  Holy  Ghost. 


260  CHBiaTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE    lord's     prayer. 

No  one  doubts  that  the  Lord's  Prayer  entered  into  all 
the  Liturgical  observances  of  the  Early  Church.  No  one 
questions  its  fundamental  value. 

1.  First,  let  us  observe  the  importance  of  having  such  a  form 
at  all  as  the  Lord's  Prayer  left  to  us  by  the  Founder  of  our 
faith.  It  was  said  once  by  a  Scottish  statesman,  "  Give  to  any 
one  you  like  the  making  of  a  nation's  laws — give  me  the  mak- 
ing of  their  ballads  and  songs,  and  that  will  tell  us  the  mind  of 
the  nation."  So  it  might  be  said,  "  Give  to  any  one  you  like 
the  making  of  a  Church's  creed — or  a  Church's  decrees  or 
rubrics — give  me  the  making  of  its  prayers,  and  that  a\  ill  tell 
us  the  mind  of  the  Church  or  religious  community.'"  We 
have  in  this  Prayer  the  one  public  universal  prayer  of  Christen- 
dom. It  contains  the  purest  wishes,  the  highest  hopes,  the 
tenderest  aspirations  which  our  Master  put  into  the  mouths 
of  His  followers.  It  is  the  rule  of  our  worship,  the  guide 
of  our  inmost  thoughts.  This  prayer  on  the  whole  has  been 
accej^ted  by  all  the  Churches  of  the  world.  In  the  English 
Liturgy  it  is  repeated  in  ever  single  service — too  often  for  pur- 
poses of  edification.  The  reason  evidently  is  because  it  was 
thought  that  no  service  could  be  complete  without  it.  This  is 
the  excuse  for  what  otherwise  would  seem  to  be  a  vain  repeti- 
tion. Again,  it  is  used  so  frequently  in  the  Ponian  Catholic 
Church  that  its  two  first  words  have  almost  ])assed  into  a  name 
for  a  prayer  generally — Pater  Noster — which  is  the  Latin  of 
"  Our  Father."  It  has  been  translated  into  almost  all  languages. 
It  is  used,  at  least  in  modern  times,  in  all  the  Presbyterian 
churches  of  Scotland,  and  in  most  of  the  English  Noncon- 
formist churches.  However  great  may  be  the  scruples  which 
any  community  may  entertain  against  set  forms,  there  is 
hardly  any  which  will  refuse  to  use  this  prayer.     The  Society 


TEE  LORD'S  PRATER.  261 

of  Friends  is  probably  the  only  exception.     Whatever  may  be 
the  case  with   other  formularies   or  catechisms,  this  at  least 
is  not  a  distinctive    formulary  ;  it  is  common   to   the   whole 
of  Christendom— nay,  as  we  shall  see,  it  is  common  to  the 
whole  of  mankind.     Luther  calls  it  "  the  Prayer  of  Prayers  " 
Baxter  says,  "The    Lord's  Prayer,  with  the  Creed  and  Ten 
Commandments,  the  older  I  grew,  furnished  me  with  a  most 
plentiful  and  acceptable  matter  for  all  my  meditations."     Arch- 
bishop   Leighton,  the    only  man  who  was  almost    successfuf 
in  jommg  together  the  Churches    of  England  and   Scotland 
ivas,  we  are  told,  especially  partial  to  the  Lord's  Prayer,  and 
said    of  it,   "Oh,  the  spirit  of  this  prayer  would  make 'rare 
Christians."     Bossuet,  the  most  celebrated  of  French  divines 
and  Channing,  the  most  celebrated  of  American  divines  both 
repeated  it  on  their  death-beds.     Channing  said,  "  This  is  the 
perfection  of  the  Christian  Religion."     Bossuet  said,  <'  Let  us 
read  and  re-read  incessantly  the  Lord's  Prayer.     It  is  the  true 
prayer  of  Christians,  and  the  most  perfect,  for  it  contains  all  " 
On  the  day  of  his  execution  it  was  repeated  by  Count  Eo-mont 
leader  of  the  insurrection  in.  the  Netherlands.     On  the  day  of 
his  mortal  illness  it  summed  up  the  devotions  of  the  Emperor 
Nicholas  of  Russia.     Even  those  who  knew  nothing  about  it 
have  acknowledged  its  excellence.     A  French    countess  read 
this  prayer  to  her  unbelieving  husband  in  a  dangerous  illness 
"Say  that  agam,"  he  said,  "it  is  a  beautiful  prayer.     AVho 
made  it  ?  "^ 

2.  Again,  in  the  Early  Church  it  was  the  only  set  form  of 
Liturgy.  It  was,  so  to  speak,  the  whole  Liturgy ;  it  was  the 
only  set  form  of  prayer  then  used  in  the  celebration  of  the 
Holy  Communion.  Whatever  other  prayers  were  used  were 
offered  up  according  to  the  capacity  and  choice  of  the  mini- 
ster. But  Inhere  was  one  prayer  fixed  and  universal  and  that 
was  the  Lord  s  Prayer.  The  Clementine  Liturgy  alone  omits 
It.  jHrom  that  unique  position  it  has  been  gradually  pushed 
aside  by  more  modern  prayers.  But  the  recollection  of  its 
ancient  pre-eminent  dignity  is  still  retained  in  the  older  lituro-ies 
by  Its  following  immediately  after  the  consecration  prayer- 
and  m  the  modern  English  Liturgy,  although  it  has  been  yet 

*  See  Chapter  ILL 


262  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

further  removed,  yet  its  higli  importance  in  the  service  is  indi- 
cated by  its  being  used  twice — once  at  the  commencement  and 
immediately  after  the  administration.  Whenever  we  so  hear 
it  read  we  are  reminded  of  its  original  grandeur  as  the  root  of 
all  liturgical  eucharistic  services  everywhere,  It  is  an  indica- 
tion partly  of  the  immense  change  which  has  taken  place  in  all 
liturgies  :  it  shows  how  far  even  the  most  ancient  that  exist 
have  departed  from  their  original  form.  But  it  reminds  us 
also  what  is  the  substance  of  the  whole  Communion  service ; 
what  is  the  spirit  by  Avhich  and  in  which  alone  the  blessings 
of  that  ser\dce  can  be  received. 

3.  And  now  let  us  look  at  its  outward  shape.  "What  do  wc 
l^rn  from  this  ?  We  may  infer  from  the  occurrence  of  any 
form  at  all  in  the  teaching  of  Christ  that  set  forms  of  prayer 
are  not  in  themselves  wrong.  He,  when  He  was  asked  by  His 
disciples,  "  Teach  us  to  pray,"  did  not  say,  as  he  might  have 
done,  "  Never  use  any  form  of  words — wait  till  the  Spirit 
moves  you — take  no  thought  how  you  shall  speak,  for  it  shall 
be  given  you  in  the  same  hour  what  you  should  speak — '  out 
of  the  abundance  of  your  heart. your  mouth  shall  speak.'" 
There  are  times  when  He  did  so  speak.  But  at  any  rate  on 
two  occasions  He  is  reported  to  have  given  a  fixed  fomn  of 
words.  But  as  He  gave  a  fixed  form,  so  neither  did  he  bind 
His  disciples  to  every  word  of  it  always  and  exclusively.  He 
did  not  say,  "  In  these  words  pray  ye,"  but  on  one  occasion, 
"  After  this  manner  pray  ye."  And  as  if  to  bring  out  still 
more  distinctly  that  even  in  this  most  sacred  of  all  prayers  it 
is  the  spirit  and  not  the  letter  that  is  of  any  avail,  there  are 
two  separate  forms  of  it  given  in  the  Gospels  according  to  St. 
Matthew  and  St.  Luke,  Avhich,  though  the  same  in  substance, 
differ  much  in  detail.  "  Give  us  this  day  our  daily  bread  "  it 
is  in  St.  Matthew ;  "  Give  us  day  by  day  our  daily  bread  "  it  is 
in  St.  Luke.  "  Forgive  us  our  debts  as  we  forgive  our  debtors," 
it  is  in  St.  Matthew  ;  "  Forgive  us  our  sins ;  for  we  also  forgive 
every  one  that  is  indebted  to  us,"  it  is  in  St.  Luke.  And  yet, 
besides,  it  may  be  observed  that  there  is  a  still  further  varia- 
tion in  the  Lord's  Prayer  as  we  read  it  in  tlie  English  Liturgy 
from  the  form  in  which  we  read  it  in  the  Authorized  Version 
of  the  Bible — "  Forgive  us  our  trespasses  as  we  forgive  them 
that  trespass  against  us,"  is  a  petition  that  is  the  same  in  sense 


THE  LORD'S  PRAYER.  263 

but  different  in  words  from  what  it  is  either  in  St.  Matthew  or 
St,  Luke.  And  again,  what  we  call  the  doxology  at  the  end, 
"  For  thine  is  the  kingdom,  and  the  power  and  the  glory,"  is 
not  found  at  all  in  St.  Luke,  nor  in  the  oldest  manuscripts  of 
St.  Matthew,  and  is  never  used  at  all  in  the  oldest  Churches  of 
Europe.  The  Roman  Catholic  Church  absolutely  rejects  it. 
The  Greek  reads  it  but  not  as  part  of  the  Lord's  Prayer. 
Pope,  the  Roman  Catholic  poet,  imagined  that  it  was  written 
by  Luther.  All  these  variations  show  the  difference  between 
the  spirit  and  the  substance,  between  the  form  and  the  letter. 
The  Lord's  Prayer  is  often  repeated  merely  by  rote,  and  has 
often  been  used  superstitiously  as  a  charm.  These  slight 
variations  are  the  best  proofs  that  this  formal  repetition  is  not 
the  use  for  which  it  was  intended.  Li  order  to  pray  as  Jesus 
Christ  taught  us  to  pray  we  must  pray  with  the  understanding 
as  well  as  with  the  spirit — with  the  spirit  and  heart  as  well  as 
with  the  lips.  Prayer  in  its  inferior  form  becomes  merely 
mechanical ;  but  in  its  most  perfect  form  it  requires  the  exer- 
cise of  the  reason  and  understanding.  This  distinction  is  the 
salt  which  saves  all  prayers  and  all  religions  whatever  from 
corruption. 

4.  There  is  yet  a  further  lesson  to  be  learned  from  the  gen- 
eral form  and  substance  of  the  Lord's  Prayer.  Whence  did 
it  come  ?  What,  so  to  speak,  was  the  quarry  out  of  which  it 
was  hewn  ?  It  might  have  been  entirely  fresh  and  new.  It 
might  have  been  brought  out  for  the  first  time  by  "  Him  who 
spake  as  never  man  spake."  And  in  a  certain  sense  this  was 
eo.  As  a  whole  it  is  entirely  new.  It  is,  taking  it  from 
first  to  last,  what  it  is  truly  called,  "the  Lord's  Prayer" — 
the  Prayer  of  our  Lord,  and  of  no  one  else.  But  if  we  take 
each  clause  and  word  by  itself  it  has  often  been  observed  by 
scholars  that  they  are  in  part  taken  from  the  writings  of  the 
Jewish  Rabbis.  It  was  an  exaggeration  of  Wetstein  when  he 
said,  "Tota  haec  oratio  ex  formulis  Hebrseorum  concinnata 
est."  But  certainly  in  the  first  two  petitions  there  are  strong 
resemblances.  "  Every  scribe,"  said  our  Lord,  "  bringetih  forth 
out  of  his  treasury  things  new  and  old."  And  that  is  exactly 
what  He  did  Himself  in  this  famous  prayer.  Something  like 
at  least  to  those  familiar  petitions  exists  in  some  hole  or  corner 
of  Jewish  liturgies.     It  was  reserved  for  the  Divine  Master  to 


264  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

draw  them  forth  from  darkness  into  light,  and  speak  out  on 
the  housetop  what  was  formerly  whispered  in  the  scholar's 
closet — to  string  together  in  one  continuous  garland  the 
pearls  of  great  price  that  had  been  scattered  here  and  there, 
disjointed  and  divided.  We  learn  from  this  the  value  of 
selection,  discrimination  of  study,  in  the  choice  of  our  materi- 
als of  knowledge,  whether  divine  or  human,  and  especially  of 
our  devotion.  We  are  not  to  think  that  a  saying,  or  truth,  or 
prayer  is  less  divine  because  it  is  found  outside  the  Bible. 
We  are  not  to  think  that  anything  good  in  itself  is  less  good 
because  it  comes  from  a  rabbinical  or  heathen  source. 

5.  Observe  its  brevity.  It  is  indeed  a  comment  upon  the 
saying,  "  God  is  in  heaven,  and  thou  upon  earth ;  therefore 
let  thy  words  be  few."  No  doubt  very  often  we  pray  in 
forms  much  longer  than  this ;  but  the  shortness  of  the  Lord's 
Prayer  is  compatible  with  its  being  the  most  excellent  of 
all  prayers,  and  with  compressing  our  devotion  into  the  brief- 
est compass.  In  fact  the  occasion  on  which  it  is  introduced 
lays  the  chief  stress  on  its  shortness.  It  was  first  taught  in 
express  contrast  to  the  long  repetitions  of  the  heathen  relig- 
ions, "  They  think  that  they  shall  be  heard  for  their  much 
speaking.  Be  not  ye  therefore  like  unto  them,  for  your 
Father  knoweth  what  things  ye  have  need  of  before  ye  ask 
Him.  After  this  manner  therefore  pray  ye."  Every  one, 
however  difficult  he  may  find  it  to  make  long  prayers,  how- 
ever pressing  his  business  may  be,  morning,  noon,  and  night, 
may  have  time  for  this  very  short  prayer.  How  long  does  it 
take  ?  One  minute.  How  many  sentences  does  it  contain  ? 
Seven.  The  youngest  as  well  as  the  oldest — the  busiest  as 
well  as  the  idlest — the  most  sceptical  as  well  as  the  most 
devout — can  at  least  in  the  day  once  or  twice,  if  not  in  the 
early  morning  or  the  late  evening,  use  this  short  prayer. 
There  is  nothing  in  it  to  offend.  They  who  scruple  or  who 
throw  aside  the  Prayer  Book,  or  the  Directory,  or  the  Cate- 
chism, or  the  Creed,  at  least  may  say  the  Lord's  Prayer.  They 
cannot  be  the  worse  for  it.     They  may  be  the  better. 

6.  And  now  let  us  look  upon  the  substance  of  the  sentences 
as  they  follow  one  another.  We  have  said  that  a  nation's 
religious  life  may  be  judged  by  its  chief  prayers.  For  ex- 
ample, the  Mohammedan  religion  may  fairly  claim  to  be  rep- 


THE  LOliUS  PRAYER.  265 

resented  by  the  one  prayer  that  every  Mussulman  offers  to  God 
morning  and  evening.  It  is  in  the  first  chapter  of  the  Koran, 
and  it  is  this :  — 

"  Praise  be  to  God,  Master  of  the  Uuiverse, 
The  Merciful,  the  Compassionate, 
Lord  of  the  day  of  Judgment. 
To  Thee  we  give  our  worsliip, 
From  Thee  we  have  our  help. 
Guide  us  in  the  right  way, 

In  the  way  of  those  whom  Thou  hast  loaded  with  Thy  blessing, 
Not  in  the  way  of  those  who  have  encountered  Thy  wrath,  or  who  have 
gone  astray." 

Let  us  not  despise  that  prayer — so  humble,  so  simple,  so 
true.  Let  us  rather  be  thankful  that  from  so  many  devout 
hearts  throughout  the  Eastern  world  there  ascends  so  pure  an 
offering  to  the  Most  High  God.  Yet  surely  w^e  may  say  in  no 
proud  or  Pharisaic  spirit  that,  compared  even  with  this  ex- 
alted prayer  of  the  Arabian  Prophet,  there  is  a  richness,  a  ful- 
ness, a  height  of  hope,  a  depth  of  humility,  a  breadth  of 
meaning  in  the  prayer  of  the  Lord  Jesus  which  we  find  no- 
where else,  which  stamps  it  with  a  divinity  all  its  own. 

"  Our  Father  which  art  in  Heaven."  Our  Father,  not 
my  Father.  He  is  the  God  not  of  one  man,  or  one  church,  or 
one  nation,  or  one  race  only — but  of  all  who  can  raise  their 
thoughts  towards  Him.  Father.  That  is  the  most  human, 
most  personal,  most  loving  thought  which  we  can  frame  in 
speaking  of  the  Supreme  Being.  And  yet  He  is  in  Heaven. 
That  is  the  most  remote,  the  most  spiritual,  the  m.Dst  imper- 
sonal thought  which  we  can  frame  concerning  Him.  Heaven 
is  a  word  which  expresses  the  ideal,  the  unseen  world,  and 
there  infinitely  raised  above  us  all  is  the  Father  whom  we 
adore.  "  Hallowed  be  Thy  name."  That  is  the  hope  that 
all  levity,  that  all  profaneness  may  be  banished  from  the  wor- 
ship of  God ;  not  only  that  our  worship  may  be  simple, 
solemn,  and  reverent,  but  that  our  thoughts  concerning  Him 
may  be  consecrated  and  set  apart  from  all  the  low,  debasing, 
superstitious,  selfish  ends  to  which  His  name  has  so  often 
been  turned.  "  0  Liberty,"  it  was  once  said,  "  how  many  are 
the  crimes  that  have  been  committed  in  thy  name !"  '  0 
Religion,"  so  we  may  also  say  when  we  repeat  this  clause 
of  the  Lord's  Prayer,  "  how  many  are  the  crimes  that  have 
been  committed  in  thy  name  !"     May  that  holy  name  be  hal- 


266  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

lowed  by  the  acts  and  words  of  those  who  profess  it!  "Thy 
KINGDOM  COME."  This  is  the  highest  hope  of  humanity  ;  that 
the  rule  of  supreme  truth,  and  mercy,  and  justice,  and  beauty, 
may  penetrate  every  province  of  thought,  and  action,  and  law, 
and  art.  It  has  been  said  there  are  some  places  on  earth  where 
we  have  to  think  what  is  the  one  single  prayer  which  we  should 
utter  if  we  were  sm'e  of  its  being  fulfilled.  This  would,  be 
"Thy  kingdom  come."  "  Thy  will  be  done."  That  is  the 
expression  of  our  entire  resignation  to  whatever  shall  year  by 
year,  and  day  by  day  befall  us.  Resignation  which  shall  calm 
our  passions,  and  control  our  murmurs,  and  curtail  our  griefs, 
and  kindle  our  cheerfulness.  It  is,  as  Bishop  Butler  Las 
said,  the  whole  of  religion.  Islam  derives  its  name  from  it. 
"  In  earth  as  it  is  in  heaven."  These  are  words  which 
lift  our  souls  up  from  the  world  in  which  we  struggle  with 
manifold  imperfections  to  the  ideal  heavenly  world,  where 
all  is  perfect.  Party  strife — crooked  ends — ignominious 
flatteries — are  they  necessary?  Let  us  hope  that  a  time 
may  come  when  they  will  be  unnecessary.  "  Give  rs  this 
day  our  daily  bread."  Here  we  turn  from  heaven  back  to 
earth,  and  ask  for  our  needful  food,  our  enjoyment,  our  suste- 
nance from  day  to  day.  It  is  the  one  petition  for  our  earthly 
wants.  We  know  not  what  a  day  may  bring  forth.  Give  us 
only,  give  us  at  least  what  we  need,  of  sustenance  both  for 
body  and  soul.  "Enough  is  enough" — ask  not  for  more.* 
"  Enough  for  our  faith,  enough  for  our  maintenance  when  the 
sun  dawns  and  before  the  sun  sets."  "  Forgive  us  our  tres- 
passes   AS    WE    FORGIVE    THEM    THAT     TRESPASS    AGAINST     US." 

Who  is  there  that  has  not  need  to  forgive  some  one — wlio  is 
there  that  has  not  the  need  of  something  to  be  forgiven?  The 
founder  of  Georgia  said  to  the  founder  of  Methodism,  "I 
never  forgive  anj^  one."  John  Wesley  answered,  "  Sir,  I  trust 
you  never  sin."  "  Lead  us  not  into  temptation."  The 
temptations  which  beset  us.  Hoav  imieh  of  sin  comes  from 
the  outward  incidents  and  companionships  round  us!  How 
much  of  innocence  from  that  good  Providence  which  wards 
off  the  corrupting,  defiling,  debasing  influences  that  fill  the 
earth !     Save  us,  we  may  well  ask,  from  the  circumstances  of 

♦  See  Bishop  Lightfoot's  treatise  on  the  word  errtowtoj. 


THE  LORD'S  PRAYEB.  267 

our  age,  our  country,  our  church,  our  profession,  our  character; 
save  us  from  those  circumstances  which  draw  forth  our  natural 
infirmities — save  us  from  these,  break  their  force.  And  this  is 
best  accomplished  by  the  last  petition,  "  Deliver  us  from 
evil;"  that  is,  deliver  us  from  the  evil,*  whatsoever  it  is,  that 
lurks  even  in  the  best  of  good  things.  From  the  idleness  that 
grows  out  of  youth  and  fulness  of  bread — from  the  party 
spirit  that  grows  out  of  our  political  enthusiasm  or  our  nobler 
ambition — from  the  fanatical  narrowness  which  goes  hand  in 
hand  with  our  religious  earnestness — from  the  harshness  which 
clings  to  our  love  of  truth — from  the  indifference  which  results 
from  our  wide  toleration — from  the  indecision  which  intrudes 
itself  into  our  careful  discrimination — from  the  folly  of  the 
good,  and  from  the  selfishness  of  the  wise.  Good  Lord  deliver 
us.  "  For  thine  is  the  kingdom,  and  the  power,  and  the 
GLORY,  FOR  EVER  AND  EVER,  AMEN."  So  Christendom  has 
added  its  ratification  to  the  words  of  Christ.  It  is  the  thankful- 
ness which  we  all  feel  for  the  majesty  and  thought  and  beauty 
which  our  heavenly  Father  has  shown  to  us  in  the  paths  of 
nature  or  in  the  greatness  of  man. 

We  have  thus  briefly  traversed  these  petitions.  When  our 
Lord's  disciples  came  and  asked  for  a  form  of  prayer,  not  as 
John's  disciples  had  received  from  their  master,  itsconclu- 
they  thought,  no  doubt,  that  lie  would  give  them  ^ion. 
something  peculiar  to  themselves — something  that  no  one  else 
could  use.  They  little  knew  what  the  peculiarity,  the  singu- 
larity of  their  Master's  Prayer  would  be — that  it  was  one  that 
might  be  used  by  e\'ery  church,  by  every  sect,  by  every  nation, 
by  every  member  of  the  human  family.  It  is  possible  that 
some  may  be  inclined  to  complain  of  this  extreme  comprehen- 
siveness and  indefiniteness,  and  to  say  there  is  something  hero 
which  falls  short  of  the  promise  in  St.  John's  Gospel.  "  If  ye 
shall  ask  anything  in  My  name  I  will  do  it."  But  the  answer 
is  that  here,  as  before,  this  prayer  is  a  striking  example  of  the 
greatness  of  the  spirit  above  the  letter.  In  the  letter  it  does  not 
begin  or  end  in  the  actual  name  of  Jesus  Christ.  That  familiar 
termination  which  to  our  ears  has  become  almost  the  neces- 


*  ojrb  ToO  TTovrfpov,  "the  evil,"  not  "the  Evil  One."    So  it  must  be  translated 
in  Matt.  v.  37,  39,  as  well  as  in  Matt.  vi.  13. 


268  CHBISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

sary  ending  to  every  prayer,  and  wliich  is  used  in  every  church, 
whether  Unitarian  or  Tirnitarian,  is  not  here.  We  do  not  close 
our  Lord's  prayer  with  the  Avords  "  through  Jesus  Christ  our 
Lord."  We  do  not  invoke  the  holy  name  of  Jesus  either  at 
the  beginning  or  end.  But  not  the  less  is  it  in  the  fullest 
sense  a  prayer  in  the  name  of  Christ.  In  the  name  of  Christ, 
that  is  (taking  these  words  in  their  Biblical  sense),  "in  the 
spirit  of  Christ,"  "according  to  the  nature  and  the  will  of 
Christ,"  copying  from  the  lips  of  Christ,  adopted  as  His  one 
formulary  of  faith  at  His  express  commandment.  Li  this  true 
meaning  of  the  words  the  Lord's  Prayer  is  more  the  Prayer  of 
our  Lord,  is  more  entirely  filled  with  the  name  and  spirit  of 
Christ,  than  if  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  were  re- 
peated a  hundred  times  over.  In  Pope's  Universal  Prayer 
there  is  much  which  is  condemned  by  religious  persons,  and 
we  do  not  undertake  to  defend  the  taste  or  the  sentiment  of  it 
in  every  part.  But  assuredly  that  which  is  its  chief  character- 
istic, its  universality,  is  exactly  in  spirit  that  which  belongs  to 
the  prayer  of  Christ.  It  is  expressed  in  those  well-known 
words : 

"  Father  of  all !  in  every  age, 
In  every  clime  ador'd, 
By  saint,  "by  savage,  or  by  sage, 
Jehovah,  Jove,  or  Lord." 

It  is  this  very  characteristic  of  the  prayer  which  makes  it  to 
be  in  His  name.  It  is  this  very  universality  which  overflows 
with  Himself,  and  which  makes  the  prayer  of  the  philosopher 
to  be  a  paraphrase  of  His  Prayer.  He  is  in  every  syllable  of 
this  sacred  formula,  as  He  is  not  equally  in  any  other  formula. 
He  is  in  the  whole  of  it,  and  in  all  its  parts.  Of  these,  the 
most  sacred  of  all  the  words  that  He  has  given  us,  it  is  true 
what  He  said  of  all  His  words — they  are  not  mere  words,  they 
are  spirit  and  they  are  life. 


UOL^WIL  A^D   CREED   OF  CONSTANTINOPLE.     269 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE     COUNriT.    AND    CREED    OF    CONSTANTINOPLE. 

It  may  be  interesting  in  connection  with  the  history  of  the 
early  Creeds  to  add  an  account  of  the  circumstances  under 
which  they  came  into  existence.  Of  the  Apostles'  Creed  we 
have  already  spoken.*  The  Nicene  Creed  was  the  result  of 
the  Council  of  Nicaea,  and  this,  though  in  a  form  totally  dif- 
ferent from  that  which  now  bears  the  name,  is  the  original 
Creed  of  the  Empire,  and  its  formation  has  been  described  in 
the  "  Lectures  on  the  Eastern  Church."  |  The  Athanasian 
Creed  is  of  much  later  date,  and  has  also  been  the  subject  of  a 
separate  treatise.]];  There  remains  therefore  only  the  Creed 
commonly  called  the  Creed  of  Constantinople,  which  is  now 
adopted  by  the  Churches  of  Rome  and  England,  and  the 
Lutheran  Churches,  and  through  the  whole  of  the  Eastern 
Church,  with  the  exception  of  the  Coptic,  Nestorian,  and  Ar- 
menian branches.  In  order  to  do  this,  it  will  be  necessary  to 
describe  the  Council,  with  which  its  composition  is  traditionally 
connected,  the  more  so  as  the  assembly  has  never  yet  been 
adequately  portrayed.  After  this  description  it  will  be  our 
object  to  examine  into  the  nature  and  pretensions  of  the 
Creed  which  is  usually  supposed  to  have  sprung  out  of  it. 

The  city  of  Constantinople  had  been§  almost  ever  since 
the  Council  of  Nicsea  in  the  hands  of  the  great  party  which 
was  called  by  the  name  of  the  heresiarch  Arius,  and  which 
embraced  all  the  princes  of  the  Imperial  House,  from  Con- 

*  Lecture  XIV.  t  Lectures  on  the  Eastern  Church,  Lecture  PV. 

X  Tlie  Athanasian  Creed,  with  a  Preface. 

§  The  usual  authorities  which  describe  the  Council  are  the  ecclesiastical  his- 
torians of  the  followiuj?  century— Socrates,  Sozoraen,  Theodoret.  But  far 
more  important  than  these  are  the  letters,  orations,  and  autobiographical 
poems  of  Gregory  Nazianzen,  who  was  not  only  a  contemporary,  but  an  eye- 
witness of  most  of  what  he  describes.  We  must  add  from  modem  times  the 
learned  Tillemont,  the  exact  Hefele,  and  the  elaborate  and  for  the  most  part 
impartial  narrative  of  the  Due  de  Broglie,  all  of  them  belonging  to  the  more 
moderate  school  of  the  Roman  Church. 


270  CHRISTIAN  IKSTITUTIONS. 

stantinethe  Great  to  Valens  (with  the  exception  of  the  "apos- 
tate  "  Julian),  as  well  as  the  Gothic  tribes  on  the  frontier.  But 
the  "  orthodox  "  or  so  called  "  Catholic  "  party,  to  which  the 
name  of  Athanasius  still  gave  life,  struggled  on ;  and  when 
the  rude  Spanish  soldier  Theodosius  restored  peace  to  the 
Empire,  his  known  opinions  in  favor  of  the  orthodox  doctrine 
gave  a  hope  of  returning  strength  to  the  cause  which  had  van- 
quished at  Nicsea.  Under  these  circumstances,  the  little  com- 
munity which  professed  the  Athanasian  belief  at  Constantinople 
determined  on  the  step  of  calling  to  their  assistance  one  of  the 
leaders  of  those  opinions  from  the  adjacent  province  of  Asia 
Minor.  Basil  would  have  been  the  natural  choice ;  but  his  age 
and  infirmities  rendered  this  impossible.  Accordingly,  they 
Gregory  fixed  on  Gregory,  commonly  called  "  of  Nazianzus." 
Nazianzen.  XJnlike  the  school  in  the  English  Church  which,  in 
the  time  of  the  Nonjurors,  and  afterwards,  sanctions  the  intru- 
sion of  new  bishops  into  places  already  preoccupied  by  lawful 
prelates,  the  orthodox  community  at  Constantinople  showed  a 
laudable  moderation.  Gregory  was  already  a  bishop,  bat  a 
bishop  without  a  diocese.  Appointed  to  the  see  of  Sasima, 
he  had  never  undertaken  its  duties,  but  contented  himself 
with  helping  his  aged  father  in  the  bishopric  of  his  birthplace 
Nazianzus.  Accordingly,  he  was  ready  to  the  hands  of  the 
minority  of  the  Church  of  Byzantium,  without  any  direct 
infringement  of  the  rights  and  titles  of  Demophilus,  the  law- 
ful bishop  of  Constantinople. 

He  came  from  his  rustic  retreat  reluctantly.  He  was  pre- 
maturely old  and  infirm.  His  bald  head  streaked  with  a  few 
white  hairs,  and  his  bent  figure,  were  not  calculated  to  com- 
mand attention.  He  was  retiring,  susceptible,  and,  in  his 
manners,  simple  to  a  fault.  It  is  this  contrast  with  the  posi- 
tion which  was  forced  upon  him  that  gives  the  main  interest 
to  the  curious  cycle  of  events  of  which  he  thus  became  the 
centre. 

Constantinople  was  crowded  with  the  heads  of  the  different 
ecclesiastical  parties,  awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  new  Emperor. 
There  were  the  Arian  bishops  in  possession  of  the  Imperial 
sees.  There  were  the  semi-Arians,  who  by  very  slight  con- 
cessions on  both  sides  might  be  easily  included  in  the  orthodox 
community.     There  were  the  liberal  Catholics,  who  were  eager 


COUNCIL  AND   CREED   OF  CONSTANTINOPLE.    271 

to  grant  sucli  concessions.  There  were  the  Puritan  Catholics, 
who  rigidly  spurned  all  compromise.  With  these  divisions 
there  was  a  vast  society,  hardly  less  civilized,  less  frivolous, 
less  complex,  than  that  of  our  great  capitals  now,  entering  into 
those  abstract  theological  questions  as  keenly  as  our  metro- 
politan circles  into  the  political  or  ecclesiastical  disputes  which 
form  the  materials  of  conversation  at  the  dinner-tables  of  Lon- 
don or  the  saloons  of  Paris.  Everywhere  in  that  new  capital 
of  the  world — at  the  races  of  the  Hippodrome,  at  the  theatres, 
at  feasts,  in  debauches,*  the  most  sacred  names  were  bandied 
to  and  fro  in  eager  disputation.  Every  corner,  every  alley  of 
the  city,  the  streets,  the  markets,  the  drapers'  shops,  the  tables 
of  moneychangers  and  of  victuallers,  were  crowded  with  the^e 
"oflf-hand  dogmatizers."  f  If  a  trader  was  asked  the  cost  of 
such  an  article,  he  answered  by  philosophizing  on  generated 
and  ungenerated  being.  If  a  stranger  inquired  the  price  of 
bread,  he  was  told  "the  Son  is  subordinate  to  the  Father."  If 
a  traveller  asked  whether  his  bath  was  ready,  he  was  told  "  the 
Son  arose  out  of  nothing." 

The  shyness  as  well  as  the  piety  of  Gregory  led  him  to  con- 
fine his  appearance  in  public  to  the  pulpit.  So  completely  had 
the  orthodox  party  been  depressed,  that  they  had  no  church  to 
offer  him  for  his  ministrations.  They  went  back  for  the 
moment  to  the  custom  which,  beginning  at  or  before  the  first 
conversion  of  the  Empire,  was  in  fact  the  origin  of  all  the 
early  Christian  churches.  Every  great  Roman  house  had 
attached  to  it  a  liall,  which  was  used  by  its  owner  for  pur- 
poses of  justice  or  of  public  assemblies,  and  bore  (at  least  in 
Rome)  the  name  of  "basilica." J  Such  a  hall  was  employed 
by  Gregory  on  this  occasion  in  the  house  where  he  liad  taken 
up  his  quarters.  An  extempore  altar  was  raised,  and  in 
accordance  with  the  ancient  Eastern  practice  of  separating  the 
sexes,  a  gallery  was  erected'  for  the  women,  such  as  on  a 
gigantic  scale  still  exists  in  the  Church  of  St.  Sophia;  show- 
ing at  once  the  importance  of  the  female  element  in  these 
Byzantine  congregations,  and  also  the  prominence  given  to  ati 
element  in   ecclesiastical   architecture   which  is  regarded   by 

*  Gregory  Naz.  Or.  22-27. 

+  auToo-xc^tot  6o7/ioTi<rTat.    Gregory  Nyssa,  De  Deitate  Filii,  vol.  ii.  p  898 

X  See  Chapter  IX. 


272  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

modern  ecclesiologists  as  utterly  incongruous.  To  this  extem- 
porized chapel  he  gave  the  name  of  the  Anastasia,  or  Church 
of  the  Resurrection  or  Revival ;  in*  allusion  to  the  resurrec- 
tion, as  he  hoped,  of  the  orthodox  party  in  the  Church,  much 
as  Nonconformists  gave  to  their  places  of  worship  the  names, 
not  of  the  ancient  saints,  but  of  such  events,  or  symbols,  as 
seemed  to  indicate  their  solitary  position  in  a  corrupt  vi'orld 
or  church — Ehenezer,  *'  the  stone  of  help  ;"  Bethesda,  "  the 
house  of  help."  The  building  was  soon  crowded ;  the  crush 
at  the  entrance  was  often  terrific;  the  rails  of  the  chancel 
were  broken  down ;  the  congregation  frequently  burst  out 
into  loud  applause.  It  required  a  more  than  mortal  not  to  be 
touched  and  elated  by  these  signs  of  the  effect  produced  by 
his  oratory.  As  the  aged  Wilberforce  used,  long  after  his 
retirement  from  public  life,  to  recall  the  results  of  his  elo- 
quence in  the  House  of  Commons — "  Oh  !  those  cheers,  those 
delightful  cheers!"  so  Gregory,  years  afterwards,  used  to  be 
visited  in  his  solitary  dreams  by  visions  of  his  beloved  Anas- 
tasia ;  the  church  brilliantly  illuminated ;  himself,  after  the 
manner  of  the  ancient  bishops,  aloft  on  his  throne  at  the 
eastern  end,  the  presbyters  round  him,  and  the  deacons  in 
their  white  robes  below;  the  crowd  thronging  the  church, 
every  eye  fixed  on  him ;  the  congregation  sometimes  wrapt  in 
profound  silence,  sometimes  breaking  out  into  loud  shouts  of 
approbation. 

But  these  bright  days  were  destined  to  have  a  sad  morrow. 
The  sermons,  which  consisted  usually  of  abstract  disquisitions 
on  the  disputed  doctrines,  but  sometimes  of  counsels  towards 
moderation,  veiled  under  a  eulogy  of  the  great  Athanasius,  f 
provoked  the  jealousy  or  hostility  of  the  opposite  party, 
or  perhaps  of  the  more  zealous  members  of  his  own.  On  one 
occasion  a  body  of  drunken  artisans  broke  into  the  church, 
accompanied  by  an  army  of  beggars,  of  furious  nuns,J  and, 

*  it  furnishes  a  curious  example  of  the  growth  of  a  legend  from  a  name. 
Socrates  records  the  miracle  of  a  woman  falling  from  the  galle-y  willKJUt  in- 
jury to  life,  as  the  origin  of  the  title.  As  we  know  the  real  meaning  of  the 
name,  it  is  obvious  that  the  reverse  is  the  true  account  of  the  matter.  A  No- 
vatian  chapel  li.id  ))orne  the  same  name  for  flic  same  reason. 

1  This  is  the  date  at  the  oration  on  Athanasius,  acconling  to  M.  de  Broglie. 

t  M.  de  Broglie  says  "des  femmes  d^^hauchf^es."  But  it  is  clear  from  Greg- 
ory's account  (Or.  xxiii.  .5,  xxxv.  3:  Ep.  77;  Carm.  de  Vitd  Svd,  600,  (570).  that 
tkoy  were  the  nuns  or  consecrated  \irgins. 


COUNCIL  AND   CREED  OF  CONSTANTINOPLE.    273 

tlie  usual  accompaniment  of  riots  at  that  time,  ferocious 
monks.  A  violent  conflict  ensued — some  of  the  priests  and 
neophytes  were  wounded.  The  police  hesitated  to  interfere 
— ostensibly  on  the  ground  that  it  was  impossible  to  decide 
which  were  the  assailed  and  which  the  assailants.  Gregory, 
with  a  questionable  prudence,  had  surrounded  himself  with  a 
body  of  orthodox  fanatics,  with  whom  he  had  but  little  sympa- 
thy, and  whose  hostility  to  the  moderation  of  the  venerable 
Basil  might  have  well  roused  his  suspicion.  They  slept  in  his 
house,  they  assisted  him  in  preparing  his  sermons,  they  formed 
a  guard  about  him  in  these  tumults.  One  of  them  was  no 
less  a  person  than  the  youthful  Jerome,  then  on  his  way  from 
the  farther  East,  whose  fierce  and  acrid  temper  rendered  him 
a  staunch  but  perilous  friend,  and  who  lost  no  occasion  of 
expressing  his  admiration  of  Gregory — his  "  beloved  master," 
"  to  whom  there  was  no  equal  in  the  Western  Church."  * 
There  was  another  who  rendered  a  yet  more  dubious  assistance. 
Maximus  or  Heron  was  one  of  the  class  of  those  wild  Egyptians 
who  played  some  years  later  so  disgraceful  a  part 
in  the  train  of  Cyril  of  Alexandria.  He  had  once 
been  a  philosopher  of  the  Cynical  sect,  and,  although  ordained, 
still  wore  their  curious  costume.  In  all  these  disturbances  his 
figure  was  conspicuous.  He  wielded  a  long  staff  in  his  hands. 
A  tangled  mass  of  curls — half  of  their  natural  black,  half 
painted  yellow — fell  over  his  shoulders. •{•  A  dirty  shirt  envel- 
oped his  half-naked  limbs,  which  he  occasionally  drew  aside  to 
show  the  scars  of  wounds  which  he  professed  to  have  received 
in  some  persecution.  At  every  word  of  Gregory  he  uttered 
shouts  of  delight,  at  every  allusion  to  the  heretics  he  uttered 
yells  of  execration.  The  most  sinister  rumors,  however,  were 
circulated  against  his  private  character.  Even  the  marks  on 
his  back  were  whispered  to  be  the  effects  of  a  severe  castiga- 
tion  with  which  he  had  been  visited  for  some  discreditable 
transaction.  But  Gregory  was  infatuated,  as  is  sometimes  the 
case  with  the  most  sagacious  and  the  most  incorruptible  of 
men,  by  the  charms  of  assiduous  flattery,  and  by  the  advantage 
of  having  near  him  an  ally  who  stopped  at  nothing  in  defence 


*  Manj-  qupstions  passed  between  them  on  Biblical  criticism  and  on  ecclesi- 
astical policy.    (Jerome,  Contra  Eufin,  1.  13;  De  Viris  Illustribus,  c.  117.) 
t  Df  Vit.  754,  766. 


274:  CHRISTIAN  iNSTlTXITIONS. 

of  a  cause  wliicli  he  thought  right.  Such  is  the  secret  of  the 
ridiculous  eulogy  which  Gregory  pronounced  on  Maxinius  in 
his  presence,  in  a  sermon  which  still  remains  as  a  monument 
of  the  weakness  into  which  party  spirit  can  betray  even  a 
thoughtful  and  pious  man.  His  dear  "  Heron  was  a  true 
model  of  the  union  of  philosophy  and  religion  "  * — a  "  friend 
from  an  unexpected  quarter" — a  "dog" — alluding  to  the  title 
of  his  philosophical  sect  of  the  Cynics  or  "Dogs" — "a  dog 
indeed  in  the  best  sense :  a  watch-dog,  who  guards  the  house 
from  robbers" — finally,  it  was  not  too  much  to  say,  "his  suc- 
cessor in  the  promised  see  of  Constantinople."  This  last  hint 
was  not  thrown  away  on  "the  Dog."  There  was  no  time  to 
be  lost.  The  Emperor  was  on  his  way  to  Constantinople. 
Whoever  was  the  orthodox  champion  in  possession  of  the  see 
would  probably  be  able  to  keep  it.  Maximus  communicated 
his  designs  to  his  Egyptian  fellow-countrymen  amongst  the 
bishops.  They,  as  the  orthodox  of  the  orthodox,  entered  at 
cnce  into  his  plan,  which  received  the  sanction  of  Peter,  suc- 
cessor of  Athanasius  in  the  see  of  Alexandria.  Alexandria  at 
that  time  was,  saving  the  dignity  of  the  new  capital  of  Con- 
stantinople, the  chief  city  of  the  Eastern  world.  Its  ecclesias- 
tical primacy  in  the  East  had  hitherto  been  undisputed.  The 
Bishop  of  Alexandria  was  at  this  time  the  only  "  Pope "  or 
"  Father  "  of  the  Church.  He  had  long  enjoyed  the  title.  It 
is  a  probable  conjecture  \  that  in  this  stroke  of  elevating  an 
Egyptian  of  the  Egyptians  to  the  see  of  Constantinople  there 
was  a  deliberate  intention  at  grasping  the  primacy  of  the  Im- 
perial Church.  All  was  prepared.  A  large  sum  of  money, 
placed  at  the  disposal  of  Maximus  by  a  Thasian  presbyter  who 
had  been  to  the  Golden  Horn  to  buy  marble,  was  employed  in 
securing  the  services  of  a  number  of  Alexandrian  sailors. 
Gregory  was  confined  to  his  house  by  illness.  With  this 
mixed  multitude  to  represent  the  congregation,  the  Egyptian 
bishops  solemnly  consecrated  Maximus  at  the  dead  of  night. 
The  elevation  to  this  high  dignity  was  rendered  still  more 

*  Greg^ory  Naz.  Or.  xxv.  1,  2.  It  is  from  his  companion  St.  Jerome  that  we 
are  able  to  substantiate  the  identity  of  Maximus  witli  tlie  Heron  of  this  strange 
discourse.  "Tlie  names  were  changed,"  says  Jerome.  "  in  order  to  save  the 
crcdif  (,f  ( ire gorv  from  having  alternately  praised  and  blamed  the  same  man." 
(/V  Mi-is  lllKstrilnt.i,  c.  117.) 

t  Milman's  History  of  Christianity  under  the  Empire,  vol.  iii.  p.  115. 


COUNCIL  AND  CREED  OF  CONSTANTINOPLE.    275 

marked  by  the  metamorphosis  in  his  outward  appearance. 
"  They  took  '  the  dog,' "  says  Gregory,  in  who^-^e  eyes  the 
Cynic  now  assumed  a  very  different  aspect,  "  and  shaved  him  ; 
the  long  locks  in  which  his  strength  resided  were  shorn  off  by 
these  ecclesiastical  Dalilahs."  But  Maximus  had  overreached 
himself.  This  was  too  startling  a  contrast.  When  he  ap- 
peared in  the  morning,  cropt,  and  well-dressed  as  a  bishop,  an 
inextinguishable  roar  of  laughter  resounded  through  the  city. 
Gregory  felt  that  he  was  included  in  the  general  ridicule.  He 
determined  on  leaving  Constantinople.  Then  a  reaction  took 
place.  The  mob  veered  round.  They  insisted  on  forcing 
Gregory  at  once  into  the  contested  see.  They  dragged  him 
in  their  arms  to  the  episcopal  chair.  He  struggled  to  escape. 
He  stiffened  his  legs,  so  as  to  refuse  to  sit.  The  perspiration 
streamed  from  his  face.  They  pushed  and  forced  him  down. 
The  women  wept,  the  children  screamed.  At  last  he  con- 
sented, and  then  was  left  to  repose.  He  endeavored  to  re- 
cover his  equanimity  by  retiring  for  a  time  to  a  villa  on  the 
shores  of  the  Sea  of  Marmora,  there  to  wander,  as  he  tells 
us,  at  sunset — unconscious  of  the  glory  which  at  that  hour 
lights  up  that  wonderful  prospect  with  a  glow  of  magical 
splendor,  but  not  insensible  to  the  melancholy  sentiment  in- 
spired by  the  rolling  waves  of  the  tideless  sea  along  the  bays 
of  that  winding  shore. 

There  were  two  other  claimants  for  the  vacant  see — each 
waiting  with  the  utmost  expectation  the  only  hand  which 
could  seat  them  securely  in  their  places,  the  hand  of  Theodo- 
sius.  At  Thessalonica  the  Emperor  met  Maximus,  who,  seeing 
that  he  was  coldly  received,  took  refuge  at  Alexandria,  under 
the  shelter  of  the  prelate  who  was  at  that  time  the  eastern 
oracle  of  the  ecclesiastical  world.  Theodosius  in  this  difficulty 
appealed  to  the  western  oracle  at  Rome.  The  Bishop  of  Rome 
was  glad  of  the  opportunity  of  striking  a  blow  at  once  at  the 
independence  and  the  superior  civilization  of  the  East.  Da- 
masus,  who  had  a  sufficient  tincture  of  letters  to  write  the 
verses  that  may  still  be  read  in  the  Roman  catacombs,  fired 
off  an  answer  which  by  the  same  blow  killed  one  and  wounded 
the  other  rival.  Maximus  was  to  be  rejected,  not  on  account 
of  his  scandalous  vices,  but  because  he  still  wore  the  garb  of  a 
philosopher.     "  No  Christian  can  wear  the  clothes  of  a  pagan 


276  CnRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

philosopher."  And  then,  with  a  covert,  attack  on  Gregory 
himself,  he  added,  "Philosophy,  friend  of  the  world's  wisdom, 
is  the  enemy  of  faith,  the  poison  of  hope,  the  war  against 
charity."  The  advice  thus  proffered  was  followed  up  by  a 
recommendation  to  the  Emperor  to  summon  a  General  Council 
for  the  settlement  of  the  disputed  succession. 

This  accordingly  was  the  origin  of  the  Council  of  Constanti- 
nople. Theodosius  meanwhile  took  the  matter  of  the  See  of  Con- 
stantinople into  his  own  hands.  To  the  actual  Bishop,  the  Arian 
Demophilus,  he  proposed  the  orthodox  confession  or  resigna- 
tion ;  Demophilus  honorably  resisted  the  temptation.  '*  Since 
you  fly  from  peace,"  said  the  Emperor, "  I  will  make  you  fly  from 
your  place."  So  summary  was  the  deposition  of  a  prelate  in  those 
days,  when  the  breadth,  not  of  a  prelate  but  of  an  Emperor, 
was  sufiicient  to  depose  the  greatest  bishops  in  Christendom. 
To  Gregory  he  turned  with  a  no  less  imperious  expression  of 
his  will:  "Constantinople  demands  you,  and  God  makes  me 
his  instrument  to  give  you  this  church."  The  election  was 
still  nominally  in  the  hands  of  the  people,  but  the  mandate  of 
the  Emperor  was  more  powerful  than  any  conge  (Telire.  It 
was  on  the  26th  of  November — one  of  those  dreary  days  on 
which  the  winds  from  the  Black  Sea  envelop  the  bright  city 
of  Constantinople  with  a  shroud  of  clouds  dark  as  night, 
v/hich  Gregory's  enemies  interpreted  into  a  sinister  presage  of 
his  ill-omened  elevation.  The  Emperor  rode  in  state  to  the 
church  where  the  ceremony  was  to  take  place.  The  immense 
multitude  of  the  Arian  population  who  were  to  lose  their 
bishop,  and  perhaps  themselves  to  be  banished  with  him — 
old  men,  women,  and  children — threw  themselves  in  vain 
before  his  horse's  feet.  The  Spanish  soldier  rode  on  immova- 
ble, as  if  he  were  on  his  Avay  to  the  field  of  battle.  It  was, 
says  Gregory  himself,  the  likeness  of  a  city  taken  by  stoiTn. 
By  the  Emperor's  side  was  the  pale,  stooping,  trembling  can- 
didate for  the  see,  hardly  knowing  wliere  he  was  till  he  found 
himself  safe  within  the  church,  behind  the  rails  of  the  chancel, 
where  lie  sat  side  by  side  with  the  magnificent  Emperor,  who 
in  his  imperial  purple  was  raised  there  aloft  as  the  chief  person 
in  the  place.  It  was  the  "Church  of  the  Apostles,"  that 
earliest  mausoleum  of  Christian  sovereigns,  the  first  germ  of 
St.  Denys,  the  Escurial,  and  Westminster  Abbey,  where  Con- 


COUNCIL  AND   CREED   OF  CONSTANTINOPLE.     211 

stantine  and  his  successors  lay  entombed,  and  where  in  after 
days  wao  to  rise  a  yet  more  splendid  edifice,  the  mosque 
which  the  Mussuhnan  conqueror  ]\Iahomet  11.  built  in  like 
manner  for  himself  and  his  dynasty.  There  was  still  a  hesita- 
tion, or  seeming  hesitation,  as  to  which  way  the  popular  feel- 
ing would  turn.  Suddenly,  by  one  of  those  abrupt  tranaitions 
common  in  Eastern  skies,  a  ray  of  sunlight  burst  through  the 
wintry  clouds,  and  flashing  from  sword  to  sword  along  the 
ranks  of  soldiers,  and  from  gem  to  gem  on  the  rich  dresses  of 
priest  and  courtier,  finally  enveloped  the  bald  white  head  of 
Gregory  himself  as  with  a  halo  of  glory.  The  omen  was  at 
once  accepted.  A  shout  like  thunder  rose  from  the  vast  con- 
gregation, "  Long  live  our  Bishop  Gregory  !  "  In  the  high 
galleries  rang  the  shrill  cries  of  the  women  in  response. 
With  a  few  faint  protestations,  Gregory  consented  to  mount 
the  Episcopal  chair,  and  the  long  dispute  was  terminated. 

Within  six  weeks  after  this  event  took  place  one  of  those 
double-sided  movements  which,  without  revealing  any  actual 
duplicity  in  the  actors,  disclose  the  hoUowness  of  Funeral  of 
their  pretentions  and  opinions.  On  the  same  day  Athanaric. 
that  a  rigid  decree  condemned  and  banished  the  Arians  of  the 
empire  from  the  walls  of  every  city,*  there  arrived  in  Constan- 
tinople the  chief  of  the  whole  Arian  world,  Athanaric  the 
Goth,  seeking  shelter  in  the  court  of  his  conqueror  from  a 
domestic  revolution.  He  was  received  with  as  much  honor  as 
if  he  had  been  the  most  orthodox  of  mankind,  and  then  a  few 
daj's  after  his  arrival  he  wasted  away  and  died.  His  funeral, 
heretic  as  he  was,  was  conducted  with  a  magnificence  which 
excited  the  wonder  and  admiration  of  the  Goths  even  far  away 
beyond  the  Danube. 

Meanwhile  the  day  for  the  opening  of  the  Council  drew  on. 
Even  Gregory  did  not  consider  his  elevation  secured  till  he 
he  had  received  its  confirmation.  The  month  of  May  had 
cojijie — the  season  when  the  navigation  of  the  Mediterranean 
was   open,  and  when  the  Bishops  could  safely  embark  from 


*  Demophilus  the  Arian  bishop,  on  the  promulgation  of  this  edict,  very 
naturally  quoted  the  evangelical  precept,  "If  they  persecute  you  in  one  city, 
flee  to  another."  "  Not  so,"  says  Socrates,  the  ecclesiastical  historian.  "  The 
text  means  that  you  must  leave  the  city  of  the  world  and  go  to  the  city  of  the 
heavenly  Jerusalem." 


278  CHBISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

tlieir  distant  dioceses.  It  was  tlie  first  General  Council  that 
had  assembled  in  the  Imperial  city.  When  its  predecessors 
met  at  Nicsea,  this  was  because  Constantinople  was  not  yet 
founded.  But  now  there  was  no  locality  at  once  so  central 
and  so  august  as  the  great  Christian  capital.  Called  as  the 
Council  was  emphatically  "  by  the  commandment  and  will "  of 
the  Emperor,  it  could  meet  nowhere  but  under  the  shadow  of 
Its  mem-  the  Imperial  throne.  Although  less  distinguished 
bers.  i^y  ttie  character  and  fame  of  its  members  than  that 

earlier  synod,  and  although  still  more  exclusively  confined  to 
the  Eastern  Church,  it  was  not  without  some  brilliant  orna- 
ments. There  were  the  friends  of  Basil,  well  versed  in  his 
moderate  counsels.  Chief  amongst  them  was  his  brother 
Gregory  of  Nyssa,  reckoned  by  the  5th  and  7th  General 
Councils  amongst  the  highest  authorities  of  the  Church.*  He 
had  lately  returned  from  his  journey  to  Syria,  on  a  mission  of 
peace-making — filled  with  indignation  against  the  follies  and 
scandals  of  the  pilgrimages.  He  brought  with  him  his  elab- 
orate work  against  the  recent  heretics,  which  in  spare  mo- 
ments he  read  aloud  to  his  friend,  the  new  Bishop  of  Constan- 
tinople, and  to  their  joint  admirer  the  youthful  Jerome.f 
There  was  Cyril  of  Jerusalem,  now  in  his  advancing  years, 
with  whom  Gregory  had  there  become  acquainted,  and  who 
himself  had  originally  belonged  to  the  semi-Arian  section  of 
the  Church.  There  was  Melitius,  the  just  and  gentle  Bishop 
of  Antioch,  so  much  revered  in  his  own  city  that  his  portrait 
was  found  everywhere,  on  rings,  on  goblets,  in  the  saloons  of 
palaces,  in  the  private  chambers  of  great  ladies.  It  might  be 
conjectured  that  one  of  these  likenesses  had  wandered  far 
West,  from  an  incident  which  occurred  on  the  first  visit  of 
the  Bishops  to  the  Emperor.  The  reception  which  he  'gave 
to  Mejitius  was  of  the  most  flattering  kind  ;  he  flew  np  to 
him,  singled  him  from  the  rest,  pressed  him  to  his  bosom,  and 
kissed  his  eyes,  lips,  breast,  head,  and  hand.  He  had,  he 
said,  in  a  vision  on  the  eve  of  his  election  to  the  empire,  seen 
a  venerable  person  approach  who  wrapped  him  in  his  imper- 
ial mantle,  and  placed  the  diadem  on  his  head.  This  person- 
age  he   now  recognized  in  the  Bishop  of  Antioch.     Such  a 


*  Tillemont,  ix.  601.  +  Jerome,  De  Vir.  III.  c.  188. 


COUNCIL  AND  CREED  OF  CONSTANTINOPLE.    279 

welcome  of  itself  designated  Melitius  to  be  President  of  the 
Council.  In  fact,  in  the  absence  of  the  Bishops  of  Rome  and 
Alexandria,  the  Bishop  of  Antioch  occupied  the  chief  place. 
And  the  mellifluous  character  of  Melitius  (to  use  the  pun  of 
Gregory)  well  adapted  him  for  the  office. 

The  first  work  which  the  Council  had  to  undertake  was  the 
decision  of  the  contest  for  the  see  of  Constantinople.  The 
absence  of  Maximus,  and  of  the  Egyptian  bishops,  who  were 
detained  at  Alexandria  around  the  deathbed  of  their  chief, 
rendered  Gregory's  triumph  easy.  But  it  is  characteristic  of 
his  moderation,  and  of  that  of  Melitius,  that  when  there  was 
a  proposal  of  proceeding  against  the  bishops  who  had  taken 
part  in  the  nomination  of  Maximus,  it  was  abandoned  on  the 
grounds — too  often  lost  sight  of  in  the  heat  of  controversy — 
that,  as  they  were  detained  in  Alexandria,  it  would  be  unjust 
to  condemn  them  in  their  absence  without  hearing  their  de- 
fence. 

This  auspicious  beginning  of  a  generosity  unusual  on  such 
occasions  was  suddenly  cut  short  by  the  death  of  Melitius. 
The  grief  felt  on  the  event  was  testified  by  the  Death  of 
magnificence  of  his  obsequies.  The  body  was  Mehtms. 
wrapped  in  a  silken  shroud,  worked  by  one  of  the  noble 
ladies  of  Constantinople.  It  was  carried  in  procession  to  the 
imperial  mausoleum  in  the  Church  of  the  Apostles;  all  the 
bishops  assisted,  with  their  clergy,  singing  psalms  in  the  dif- 
ferent dialects — probably  the  Greek  dialects — of  Asia  Minor 
and  Syria.  Funeral  orations  were  pronounced,  amongst  oth- 
ers, by  Gregory  of  Nyssa.  The  sacred  remains  were  then 
sent  home  to  Antioch  ;  and  it  marks  the  difference  between 
ancient  and  modern  usage,  that  an  express  order  from  the 
Emperor  was  required  to  enable  the  funeral  procession,  as  a 
special  favor,  even  to  enter  the  walls  of  the  various  cities 
through  which  it  passed. 

The  first  question  to  be  discussed  by  the  Council,  thus 
deprived  of  its  head,  and  placed,  as  a  matter  of  course,  under 
the  presidency  of  Gregory  Nazianzen,  now  the  rec  ognized 
bishop  of  the  Imperial  city,  was  occasioned  by  the  very 
calamity  which  they  were  now  deploring.  Ostensibly  called 
together  to  decide  certain  grave  theological  questions  then 
pending,  their  main  interest  was  centred,  as  usually  happens 


og()  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

in  popular  assemblies,  whether  secular  or  ecclesiastical,  on  a 
question  purely  personal. 

The  Church  of  Antioch  had  been  lately  divided  by  two 
contending  factions.  Melitius,  who  had  thus  been  carried  to 
Contentions  his  grave  with  all  the  honors  of  a  saint,  was  the  law- 
at  Antioch.  f  ^j^  j^n^^^  jq  i]^q  gyeg  of  an  extreme  party  at  Antioch, 
not  the  orthodox,  bishop  of  that  see.  He  had  in  his  youth,  it 
was  said,  been  infected  by  the  subtle  errors  of  Arius  ;  and,  in 
his  later  years,  he  had  joined  Basil  in  the  noble  attempts  of 
that  distinguished  divine  to  moderate  the  rage  of  controversy, 
and  to  accept,  without  further  test  or  questioning,  all  who  were 
willing  to  adopt  the  creed  of  Nica^a,  which  down  to  that  time 
had  expressed  no  precise  definition  of  the  complicated  opin- 
ions that  were  now  arising  on  the  nature  of  the  Third  Hypos- 
tasis of  the  Trinity.*  This  moderation  was  a  grave  offence 
in  the  judgment  of  the  partisans  of  extreme  orthodoxy.  They 
refused  to  communicate  with  Melitius ;  and  they  received  from 
Sardinia,  from  the  hands  of  the  stern  fanatic  Lucifer  of 
Cagliari,  a  bishop  of  the  name  of  Paulinus,  who  became  the 
head  of  a  dissenting  community  within  the  Church  of  Antioch, 
priding  itself  on  its  superior  orthodoxy,  and  refusing  to  ac- 
knowledge the  legitimate  bishop,  and  maintained  chiefly  in  its 
position  not  by  any  support  from  the  national  churches  of  the 
East,  but  from  the  more  eager  f  zealots  of  the  Western  Em- 
pire, who  fanned  the  flames  of  discord.  "  This  ridiculous  and 
causeless  schism  "  |  had  engaged  the  attention  of  Melitius  be- 
fore he  left  his  diocese.  The  case  had  been  referred. to  the 
imperial  councillors,  who  had  decided  in  Melitius's  favor  ;  and 
he  then  proposed  to  Paulinus,  as  a  middle  course,  that  the 
government  of  the  Church  should  remain  in  statu  quo  till  the 
death  of  either,  in  which  case  the  other  should  succeed  to  the 
vacant  see.  To  this,  after  some  hesitation,  Paulinus  acceded  ; 
and  all  the  chief  clergy  at  Antioch  swore  to  observe  tlie  com- 
];)act. 

On  the  death  of  Melitius,  the  very  case  provided  for  had 
occurred  :  and  Gregory  immediately  proposed  to  the  Council 
that  the  convention  should  be  carried  out.     He  appealed  to 


♦  Gregory,  Or.  xliii.  19.  t  De  Broglie,  vol.  i.  pp.  121-123. 


COUNCIL  AND   CREED   OF  CONSTANflNOPLE.     g81 

the  oaths  by  wbicli  it  was  supported ;  he  reminded  them  that 
"if  two  angels  were  candidates  for  the  disputed  see,  the  quar- 
rel was  not  worth  the  scandal  it  occasioned."  With  a  dis- 
interestedness the  more  remarkable  because  he  had  been  fiercely 
attacked  by  Paulinus  for  his  moderate  counsels  in  former 
times,  he  entreated  them  to  abide  by  the  agreement,  and 
liinted  at  the  danger  of  rousing  the  passions  of  the  western 
bishops,  who  were  in  favor  of  their  nominee  Paulinus.  Never 
did  Gregory  plead  with  more  eloquence  or  in  behalf  of  a  juster 
cause.  But  he  pleaded  in  vain.  Even  befoi'e  Melitius's  death, 
the  contending  factions  in  this  Antiochene  quarrel  had  flown 
at  each  other's  throats,  canvassing  right  and  left  every  one 
that  came  across  them,  with  cheers  and  counter-cheers.*  The 
question  had  passed  from  the  region  of  justice  and  of  faith 
into  a  mere  party  struggle.  Now  that  the  time  for  a  pacific 
settlement  had  arrived,  the  Melitians  would  not  hear  of  sub- 
mitting to  the  odious  Paulinus.  Nor  could  they  be  conciliated 
by  the  appeal  of  Gregory.  His  influence  had  been  shaken  by 
his  weakness  in  the  affair  of  Maximus  ;  and,  besides,  bis  allusion 
to  the  fear  of  the  West  roused  all  the  slumbering  passions  of 
the  jealous  East.  He  has  himself  described  the  effect  of  his 
speech  :  "  A  yell,  rather  than  a  cry,  broke  from  the  assembled 
episcopate."  "  They  threw  dust  in  his  face ;  they  buzzed 
about  him  like  a  swarm  of  wasps ;  they  cawed  against  him  like 
an  army  of  crows."  The  young  were  most  ardent,  but  they 
were  hounded  on  by  the  old.  An  argument  against  the  West, 
which  seemed  to  the  youthful  partisans  of  the  East  irresistible, 
was  that  Christianity  must  follow  the  course  of  the  sun,  not 
from  west  to  east,  but  from  east  to  west ;  and  the  Eastern 
bishops  supported  this  view,  "  showing  their  tusks,"  says  Greg- 
ory, "  as  if  they  had  been  wild  boars."  f  From  the  midst  of 
this  tumult,  he  appealed  to  Modarius,  an  Imperial  officer,  a 
Goth,  to  allay  the  ecclesiastical  clamor.  J  He  pointed  out  to 
him  that  these  episcopal  gatherings,  so  far  from  putting  an  end 
to  the  evil,  merely  added  confusion  to  confusion.  It  would 
seem  that  this  appeal  was  in  also  vain.  Theodosius,  whether 
from  scruple  or  policy,  was  determined  to  leave  the  bishops  to 
themselves.     The  precedent  set  by  Constantine  at  Nicaea  had 


*  Gregory,  De  Vit.  1555.  t  De  Vit.  1805.  {  Ep.  136. 


282  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

passed  into  a  law.  That  sagacious  ruler,  when  he  received  the 
mutual  complaints  and  accusations  of  the  bishops  of  the  First 
General  Council  against  each  other,  put  them  all  into  the  fire 
without  reading  them ;  and  in  accordance  with  this  contempt- 
uous but  charitable  act,  an  imperial  decree  was  passed  on  the 
occasion  of  the  Second  Council,*  prohibiting  bishops  to  appear 
against  each  other  in  courts  of  law.  Theodosias,  however, 
though  unwilling  to  interfere  directly,  determined  to  exercise 
an  indirectinfluence  on  the  largest  scale.  He  summoned  from 
across  the  border  the  only  western  bishops  who  were  available 
— those  of  Macedonia,  which,  according  to  the  division  then 
established,  belonged  to  the  Western  Empire.  Their  appear- 
ance might  have  turned  the  scale  in  behalf  of  Gregory's 
counsels,  but  at  the  same  moment  that  they  entered  Constanti- 
nople, there  arrived  in  the  Golden  Horn  an  equal  accession  to 
the  opposite  faction  from  Egypt.  The  Egyptian  bishops  were 
with  their  new  "  Pope,"  and  boiling  over  with  indignation 
against  Gregory  for  his  rejection  of  their  old  favorite  Maxi- 
raus.  The  Macedonian  bishops  also  proved  more  unmanage- 
able than  Theodosius  had  anticipated.  They  brought  with 
them,  as  Gregory  expresses  it,  the  "  rough  breath  of  the  North- 
Wester."  Their  uncompromising  austerity,  and  the  subtle  con- 
troversial spirit  of  the  eastern  prelates,  found  a  common  ground 
in  attacking  the  unfortunate  Gregory.  There  was  one  joint  in 
his  ecclesiastical  harness  which  presented  an  opening  for  the 
darts  of  the  rigid  precisians  of  the  time.  The  Council  of 
Deprivation  Nica?a  had  peremptorily  forbidden,  on  pain  of  depri- 
of  Gregory,  yation  from  orders,  any  translation — not  only  from 
see  to  see,  but  from  parish  to  parish.j-  From  that  hour  to 
this,  in  every  church  of  Christendom,  human  ambition  and 
obvious  convenience  have  been  too  strong  for  the  decree  even 
of  so  venerable  a  body  as  the  First  Gllcumenical  Council. 
But,  general  as  the  violation  of  the  decree  was,  it  was  only 
when  personal  interests  could  be  served  by  reviving  it  that 
attention  was  called  to  the  practice.  Gregory  had  been  Bishop 
of  Sasima  before  he  was  elevated  to  the  see  of  Constantinople. 
This  was  enough ;  and  although  the  fact  had  been  perfectly 

*  Cod.  Theod.  xi.  t.  xxxix,  1.  9.    As  explained,  with  every  appearance  of 
reason,  bv  M.  de  Broglie  (vol.  i.  p.  434),  after  Qodefroi. 
t  Gee  Chapter  IX. 


COUNCIL  AND   CREED  OF  CONSTANTINOPLE.    283 

known  at  the  time  when  his  election  to  the  see  was  confirmed 
by  this  very  Council ;  although  there  was  no  reason  for  pro- 
ceeding against  him,  rather  than  against  any  of  the  many 
bishops  and  presbyters  who  had  equally  broken  the  decree  of 
Nicsea;  although  there  was  no  occasion  for  reviving  the  ques- 
tion in  his  case  at  this  particular  moment ;  yet  the  leading 
members  of  the  Council  had  the  meanness  to  condemn  in  him 
what  they  forgave  in  those  with  whom  they  had  no  quarrel ; 
to  take  advantage  of  his  temporary  unpopularity  to  press 
against  him  a  measure  which  justice  would  have  required  to  be 
pressed  against  numberless  others.  To  Gregory  personally  the 
retirement  from  his  bishopric  was  no  great  sacrifice.  The  epis- 
copate bad  always  been  a  burden  to  him  ;  he  "neighed  like  an 
imprisoned  horse  for  his  green  pastures  *  of  study  and  leisure." 
He  determined  at  once  to  "  make  himself  the  Jonah  of  the 
tempest."  Yet  when  it  came  to  the  point,  even  he  could  not 
believe  that  the  Council  would  have  the  base  ingratitude  to 
accept  a  resignation  so  nobly  and  promptly  offered.  But  gen- 
erosity towards  a  fallen  foe  is  a  difficult  virtue.  A  few,  in  dis- 
gust at  their  associates,  followed  Gregory  as  he  left  the  Coun- 
cil. The  rest  remained,  and  rejoiced  in  the  departure  of  an 
honest  and  therefore  a  troublesome  chief.  "  I  have  not  time 
or  disposition,"  says  Gregory,  "  to  unravel  their  intrigues,  so  I 
will  be  silent."  He  then  visited  the  Emperor,  hoping,  perhaps 
in  spite  of  himself,  to  obtain  a  reversal  of  his  own  sentence. 
But  Theodosius,  though  far  more  deeply  affected  than  the 
Synod,  adhered  to  the  resolution  of  leaving  the  bishops  to  set- 
tle their  own  affairs;  and  after  apathetic  and  eloquent  farewell,' 
delivered  in  the  Church  of  the  Apostles;  after  a  glowing 
description — true  even  after  the  vicissitudes  of  thirteen  hundred 
years — of  the  great  opportunities  of  Constantinople,  "  the  eye 
of  the  world,  the  knot  which  links  together  East  and  West ; 
the  centre  in  which  all  extremes  combine," — Gregory  quitted 
that  glorious  city  forever,  and  hastened  to  bury  his  old  age  and 
his  cares  in  the  solitude  of  his  ancestral  home  at  Nazianzus,  He 
might,  perhaps,  have  acted  a  more  dignified  part  had  he  buried 
in  oblivion  all  remembrance  of  the  causes  of  his  retirement. 
But  history  has  ratified  the  truth  of  the  invectives  which  his 

*  Dp  Vit.  1860-rO. 


284  CHBI8TIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

vanity  or  his  righteous  indignation  extorted  from  him.  The 
pent-up  flow  of  his  emotion,  as  he  says,  could  not  be  restrained,* 
and  the  result  is  an  elaborate  picture  of  the  bishops  of  that  time, 
doubtless  of  those  whom  he  had  known  at  the  Council,  and 
who  had  cast  him  out  from  their  ranks  as  "  an  evil  and  unholy 
man."  This  extraordinary  description  would  be  justly  consid- 
ered a  libel  on  any  modern  ecclesiastical  assembly,  and  is  thus 
instructive,  as  showing  the  impression  produced  on  a  contem- 
porary and  a  canonized  saint  by  an  institution  and  an  age  to 
which  later  times  have  looked  back  with  such  unquestioning 
reverence.f  "  They  are  actors  on  a  gigantic  scale."  "  They 
walk  on  stilts."  "  They  grin  through  borrowed  masks."  They 
seem  to  him  as  though  they  had  come  in  answer  to  the  sum- 
mons of  a  herald  who  had  convoked  to  the  Council  all  the 
gluttons,  villains,  liars,  false-swearers  of  the  Empire.  They  are 
'*  chameleons  that  change  their  color  with  every  stone  over  which 
they  pass."  They  are  "  illiterate,  low-born,  filled  with  all  the 
pride  of  upstarts  fresh  from  the  tables  of  false  accountants," 
"peasants  from  the  plough,"  or  from  the  spade,  "unwashed 
blacksmiths,"  "  deserters  from  the  army  and  navy,  still  stinking 
from  the  holds  of  the  ships,"  or  with  the  brand  of  the  whip  or 
the  iron  on  their  bodies.  The  refined  Gregory  was  doubtless 
acutely  sensitive  to  the  coarseness  of  vulgarity  and  "  the  igno- 
rance which  never  knows  when  to  be  silent."  But  he  is  aware 
of  the  objection  that  the  Apostles  might  be  said  also  to  have 
been  unlearned  men.  "  Yes,"  he  replies,  as  if  anticipating  the 
argument  of  the  apostolical  or  papal  succession,  "  but  it  must  be 
"^-a  real  Apostle  ;  give  me  one  such,  and  I  will  reverence  him 
however  illiterate."  \  "  But  these,"  he  returns  to  the  charge, 
"  are  time-servers,  waiting  not  on  God  but  on  the  rise  and  flow 
of  the  tides,  or  the  straw  in  the  wind  " — "  angry  lions  to  the 
small,  fawning  spaniels  to  the  great" — "  flatterers  of  ladies" — 
"  snuffing  up  the  smell  of  good  dinners" — "  ever  at  the  gates 
not  of  the  wise  but  of  the  powerful  "§ — "  unable   to   speak 

*  Ad  Episc.  (vol.  ii.  pp.  831,  829). 

■\  M.  de  Brop:lie  has  evaded  some  of  these  dark  colors  by  transferring  them 
to  the  Arian  bishops;  much  in  thf  same  way  as  tlic  niutiiiil  i-eciiminations  of 
the  Bishops  of  Nicffia  have  been  disposed  of" by  wi-ohkI.V  icferi-ing  tliem  to  the 
heretics.  But  there  can  be  no  question  that  Gregory  is  speaking  of  those  who 
dismissed  him  from  his  office  (see  De  Episc.  150,  Ad  Episc.  110),  and  therefore 
of  the  Council  collectively. 

i  Ad  Episc.  pp.  200-230.  §  De  Episc  pp.  330-350,  636. 


COUNCIL  AND   CREED   OF  CONSTANTINOPLE.     285 

themselves,  but  having  sufficient  sense  to  stop  the  tongues  of 
those  who  can" — "made  worse  by  their  elevation" — "  affect- 
ing manners  not  their  own  " — "  the  long  beard,  the  downcast 
look,  the  head  bowed,  the  subdued  voice  " — "  the  slow  walk" 
— "  the  got-up  devotee  "  *  — "  the  wisdom  anywhere  but  in 
mind." 

If  such  is  a  faithful  character  of  the  prelates  at  the  Council, 
it  needed  not  any  special  provocation  to  justify  the  well-known 
protests  of  Gregory,  which,  in  fact,  are  even  tame  and  flat  after 
these  sustained  invectives.  "  Councils,  congresses,  we  greet 
afar  off,  from  which  (to  use  very  moderate  terms)  we  have 
suffered  many  evilt.''  "  I  will  not  sit  in  one  of  those  Councils 
of  geese  and  cranes. '  ''  I  fly  from  every  meeting  of  bishops, 
for  I  never  saw  ;i  cood  end  of  any  such,f  nor  a  termination, 
but  rather  an  addition,  of  evils." 

The  Council  was  thus  left  without  a  head,  and  Constantino- 
ple without  a  bishop.  Accordingly  one  of  the  chief  objects 
for  which  the  Synod  had  been  called  together  was  by  its  own 
folly  frustrated.  Whilst  the  Council  hesitated,  others  took  the 
matter  into  their  own  hands.  The  solution  was  one  which  for- 
cibly illustrates  the  ecclesiastical  usages  of  those  times,  as  unlike 
to  those  of  our  time  as  it  is  possible  to  conceive. 

There  was  a  magistrate  at  Constantinople  named  Nectarius, 
remarkable  for  his  dignified  manners.  He  was  a  native  of  Tar- 
sus, and,  being  on  the  point  of  returning  home,  called  Election  of 
on  his  countryman  Diodorus,  Bishop  of  Tarsus,  then  Nectarius. 
at  the  Council,  to  ask  whether  he  could  take  any  letters  for  him. 
Diodorus,  perhaps  not  without  the  partiality  of  a  fellow-citizen, 
was  so  much  struck  by  his  venerable  white  locks  and  his  splen- 
did priestly  appearance,  that  he  determined,  if  possible,  to  have 
him  raised  to  the  vacant  bishopric.  He  accordingly  communi- 
cated his  name  to  the  Bishop  of  Antioch,  who  at  first  laughed 
at  the  notion  as  preposterous,  but  at  last  consented,  partly  as  a 
favor,  partly  in  jest,  to  add  his  name  at  the  end  of  the  list  to 
be  submitted  to  the  Emperor.J 

Meantime,  the  claims  of  Nectarius  appear  to"  have  been 
whispered  about  in  the  groups  of  loiterers  who  may  always  be 
seen  in  an  Eastern  city,  and  thus  to  have  reached  the  Court, 

*  nicTTos    e<TKeva<Tixivo';,  Ibid.  150. 

t  Ibid.  vol.  ii.  pp.  106,  110;  De  Vit.  855.  t  Sozomen,  vii.  c.  8. 


286  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

The  Emperor,  the  moment  he  saw  the  list,  put  his  finger  on 
Nectarius's  name,  ran  over  the  other  candidates,  then  came  back 
to  Nectarius,  :-ud  declared  him  bishop,  to  the  general  amaze- 
ment of  the  Council,  who,  nevertheless,  at  once  acquiesced  in 
the  decision. 

Not  only,  however,  was  Nectarius  a  layman  and  a  magistrate, 
but  he  was  unbaptized,  and  not  only  unbaptized,  but  he  had 
purposely  delayed  his  baptism,  according  to  the  bad  practice 
of  that  age,  in  order  to  reserve  for  the  last  moment  the  can- 
celling of  the  sins  of  a  somewhat  frivolous  youth  and  man- 
hood. But  this  discovery  was  made  too  late,  and  the  Emperor 
adhered  to  his  decision  with  an  obstinacy  so  surprising  that 
it  was  afterwards  supposed  by  Nectarius's  admirers  that  be 
must  liave  had  a  special  inspiration.  In  the  opinion  of  some 
this  strange  episcopate  turned  out  extremely  well.  But  this  is 
not  the  natural  inference  from  the  facts  that  we  know  concern- 
ing it.*  It  beginning  certainly  was  not  creditable.  Nectarius 
learned  his  episcopal  duties  as  fast  as  he  could  from  one  of  his 
Cilician  friends,  Cyriacus,  Bishop  of  Adana,  whom,  by  the  ad- 
vice of  Diodorus,  he  retained  with  him  for  some  time.f  He 
also  surrounded  himself  with  a  circle  of  his  own  countrymen, 
and  amongst  others  was  anxious  to  ordain  as  his  chaplain  and 
deacon,  Martyrius,  a  physician,  who  had  been  formerly  one  of 
his  boon  companions,  but  who  now  declined  Nectarius's  pro- 
posal on  the  characteristic  ground,  that  he,  having  been  bap- 
tized long  before,  had  lost  the  chance  of  clearing  himself  which 
Nectarius,  by  his  postponement  of  the  sacred  rite,  had  so  pru- 
dently reserved. 

Such  was  the  new  head  of  the  Council  and  of  the  clergy  of 
Constantinople  to  be  introduced  into  his  office  by  an  accumu- 
lation, in  the  course  of  a  few  days,  of  the  ceremonies  of  bap- 
tism, ordination,  and  consecration,  each  of  which  at  that  time 
implied  weeks  if  not  years  of  preparation.  The  scandal  of 
Nectarius's  elevation  caused  so  much  talk  as  to  revive  once 
more  the  hopes  of  Maximus  the  Dog,  who  seduced  no  less  a 
person  than  Ambrose  J;  and  the  other  bishops  of  the  West  to 

*  The  bad  character  of  Nectarius's  episcopate  is  fairly  brought  out  by  Tille- 
mont,  vol.  ix.  p.  488. 

t  Sozoinen,  vii.  9. 

X  Tillemont,  vol.  ix.  pp.  501,  502.  It  was  on  this  occasion  that,  Maximus  came 
out  with  an  orthodox  book  in  order  to  procure  the  favor  of  the  Emperor. 


COUNCIL  AND  CREED  OF  CONSTANTINOPLE.    287 

take  up  his  cause.  But  Nectarius  held  his  own,  supported,  as 
he  was,  by  Emperor  and  Council,  and  also  by  a  kindly  note 
from  his  deposed  rival,  "  cast  away  by  the  ungrateful  city  like 
a  flake  of  foam  or  a  fragment  of  sea-weed  "  on  the  Bosphorus. 

Meanwhile,  under  these  auspices,  the  Council  hastened  to 
wind  up  its  affairs,  and  to  approach  the  decision  of  the  theo- 
logical questions  for  which  the  Bishops  had  mainly  been  sum- 
moned. By  this  time  they  were  so  thoroughly  demoralized 
and  discredited  by  their  internal  quarrels,  that  the  thirty-six  he- 
retical prelates  who  were  present  took  courage  to  offer  a  deter- 
mined front,  and,  to  the  surprise  alike  of  Emperor  and  Coun- 
cil, fixed  a  day  for  their  departure,  and  left  Constantinople, 
protesting  against  any  further  attempts  on  the  part  of  the  as- 
sembly. But  the  majority  which  remained,  however  reduced  in 
numbers  and  authority  by  this  secession,  were  relieved  to  feel 
themselves  at  liberty  to  conclude  their  task  without  any  further 
discussion. 

From  the  most  authentic  accounts  it  would  appear  that  they 
confined  themselves  to  issuing  a  series  of  decrees  or  canons. 
Of  these  the  first  strongly  condemned  in  a  mass  the  _,  . 

various  heresies  of  the  time.  The  second,  third,  Constanti- 
and  fourth  endeavored  to  determine  the  jurisdic-  '^"P^^- 
tions  and  precedencies  of  the  different  Bishops  of  the  Empire, 
annulling  the  election  of  Maximus,  and  giving  to  the  see  of 
Constantinople  a  rank  second  only  to  that  of  Rome,  on  the 
express  ground  that  Constantinople  was  a  second  Rome.  This 
order  is  important  as  embodying  the  fact  that  the  several  dig- 
nitaries of  Christendom  took  their  positions  not  according  to 
the  sacred  or  apostolic  recollections  of  their  sees,  but  accord- 
ing to  the  civil  rank  of  the  cities  where  they  resided.  The 
exaltation  of  Constantinople  was  assui'edly  owing  not  to  any 
apostolic  dignity,  but  to  its  being  the  capital  of  Constantine, 
and  the  bishop  of  old  Rome,  in  like  manner,  assuredly  occu- 
pied the  first  place,  not  because  he  was  the  successor  of  Peter, 
but  the  bishop  of  the  capital  of  the  world.* 

It  was  f  the  9th  of  July,  and  the  summer  heats  impended, 

*  The  4th,  5th,  Cth,  and  7th  Canons  commonly  ascribed  to  this  Council  are 
sliown  by  Hefele  (Concilien-Geschichte,  ii.  pp.  13,  14,  18-27)  to  be  of  a  later 
date.    See  also  Professor  Hort's  Dissertations,  pp.  95-100. 

t  Hefele.    {Concilieti-Geschichte,  ii.  p.  13.) 


288  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

wliicli,  though  tolerable  at  Constantinople,  would  render  the 
return  of  the  bishops  to  their  several  homes  increasingly 
difficult.  Theodosius,  now  that  their  work  was  over, 
felt  that  his  was  to  begin,  broke  silence,  and  affirmed 
by  an  imperial  decree  the  condemnation  of  the  here- 
sies which  they  had  issued,  and  the  rank  of  the  bishops 
which  they  had  established.  Their  proceedings  were 
closed  by  a  splendid  funeral  ceremony,  in  which  the  remains 
of  Paul,  the  first  bishop  of  the  imperial  city,  were  transferred 
in  state  from  Ancyra  to  a  church  *  in  Constantinople  built  for 
his  rival  and  successor  Macedonius.  Paul  had  been  present 
at  the  Council  of  Nicaia  as  a  child  of  twelve  years  old,  in  at- 
tendance on  Alexander,  Bishop  of  Byzantium,  and  this  inci- 
dent of  his  posthumous  honors  thus  seems  to  link  together  the 
two  first  assemblies  of  the  Christian  Church. 

It  has  been  thought  necessary  to  give  this  description  of  a 
Council,  because  it  illustrates  so  many  feelings  of  the  time. 
Th  r  d  ^^  ^*^^^  come  to  the  question  of  what  is  commonly 
of  Constan-  called  the  creed  of  Constantinople.  In  the  common 
tinople.  traditions  j-  of  ecclesiastical  histoiy,  the  third  part 

of  the  Nicene  Creed  is  said  to  have  been  added  by  the  Fathers 
of  the  Council  of  Constantinople  to  resist  a  new  heresy  con- 
cerning the  Third  Hypostasis  in  the  Trinity,  and  the  Nicene 
Creed  thus  enlarged  is  designated  as  "  the  Creed  of  Constanti- 
nople." But  this  designation,  though  not  quite  as  erroneous  as 
that  which  speaks  of  the  "Apostles'  Creed,"  and  of  Athana- 
sius's  Creed,  or  which  describes  this  altered  confession  as  "  the 
Nicene  Creed,"  is  very  nearly  as  destitute  of  foundation. 
There  is  no  trace  in  the  records  of  the  Council  of  any  such  for- 
mal enunciation  of  any  new  Creed ;  on  the  contrary,  they  ap- 
peal to  the  existing  Nicene  Creed  as  adequate  for  all  theological 
purposes.  Such  too  is  the  language  of  Gregory  Nazianzen  a 
few  years  after  the  meeting  of  the  Council.^ 

*  The  fame  of  the  funeral  was  so  great  that  a  belief  sprang  up  among  the 
people,  and  esppcinlly  among  the  ladies  of  Constantinople,  that  I't.  Paid  tho 
Apostle  was  hi irici I  in  the  church.  (Sozomen,  vii.  c.  9.)  It  is  a  good  Instance 
of  the  growth  of  a  lir:iMi(l  from  the  confusion  of  an  obscure  with  a  celebrated 
name.    Many  sucli  doubtless  have  arisen. 

t  "Added  by  the  Fathers  of  tlie  first  Council  of  Constantinople."  (Cate- 
chism of  the  ('Viuncil  of  Trent,  Article  VIII.)  Long  after  the  Council  a  chapel 
was  shown  in  Constantinople,  under  tlie  name  of  "Concord,"  where  the  creed 
was  said  to  have  been  drawn  up.  (Tillemont,  ix.  p.  495,  where  the  whole  mat- 
ter is  well  discussed.) 

♦  See  Hefele.    (Concilien-Geschichte,  ii.  p.  11.) 


COUNCIL  AND   CREED   OF  CONSTANTINOPLE.     289 

Then  follows  the  period  of  eighty  years,  which  are  filled  by 
the  two  Councils  of  Ephesns  and  that  of  Chalccdon,  They  are 
told  in  great  detail  by  Fleiiry,  Tiliemont,  Mil  man,  and  Ainedee 
Thierry.  They  are  described  with  such  liveliness  in  the  con- 
temporary historians  and  acts  as  to  leave  little  to  be  desired. 
The  short-hand  writers  report  to  us  not  only  every  speecli,  but 
every  cry  of  approval  or  disapproval,  and  every  movement  by 
which  the  assembly  was  swaved  to  and  fro.  At  times  their 
reports  were  taken  with  difficulty,  the  violence  of  the  chief 
actors  being  such  that  their  notes  were  effaced  as  soon  as  writ- 
ten, and  that  their  fingers  were  broken  in  the  attempt  to  pre- 
vent them  from  writing.  But  they  remain  a  wonderful,  per- 
haps a  unique,  monument  of  the  point  to  which  stenography 
had  reached  in  the  fourth  century. 

The  dispute  which  occasioned  the  Council  of  Ephesus  was 
the  refusal  of  Nestorius,*  Archbishop  of  Constantinople,  to 
describe  the  Virgin  Mary  by  a  Greek  expression  to  which  the 
Western  languages  furnish  no  exact  equivalent.  It  suffices  to 
state  tliat  in  no  Protestant  Ciiurch  could  the  expression  be 
used  without  grave  offence.  Never  was  there  a  time  when 
Pascal's  humorous  description  of  theological  terms  was  more 
applicable:  "The  difference  between  us  is  so  subtle  that  we 
can  hardly  perceive  it  ourselves;  any  one  else  would  find  it 
difficult  to  understand.  Happy,"  he  exclaims  in  righteous 
indignation,  "  are  the  nations  who  never  heard  of  the  word. 
Happy  are  they  who  preceded  its  birtli."  f  Had  Nestorius  been 
Cyril,  or  Cyril  Nestorius,  the  two  parties  would  have  changed 
accordingly. J  The  expression  over  which  the  battle  was  fought 
was  never  admitted  into  any  creed  of  the  Church.  Ncitiicr  at 
E[)hesus  or  Clialcedon  was  there  on  this  ground  any  addition 
to  what  already  existed. 

We  must  not  suppose  that  the  Councils  acted  from  spon- 
taneous conviction.     A  determined  mob  from  Constantinople 

*  I  have  given  the  titles  of  the  Roman,  Constantinopolitan,  and  Alexandrian 
sees  as  they  were  at  the  time.     "  Pope  "  and  "  Patriarch  "  were  later. 

t  Provincial  Letters  I.  and  III.  For  an  instructive  discussion  of  the  intri- 
cacies, contradictions,  and  obscurities  of  the  theological  terms  used  in  these 
controversies,  see  Cardinal  Newman's  History  of  the  Arinns,  Appendix,  433- 
444. 

t  How  the  same  expressions  become  orthodox  and  heterodox  in  turn  is  seen 
from  the  Homnousion  (see  Lectures  on  Eastern  Church.  Lecture  IV.  j).  137), 
and  from  tlie  adoption  by  Nestorius  and  tlic  denial  by  Cyril  of  words  otticially 
incorporated  with  the  Creed:  "Incarnate  of  tlie  Iluly  tihost  and  of  the  Virgin 
Mary."    (Professor  Hoit's  Dtssertoiions,  112.) 

13 


290  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

— from  Syria — from  Esjypt — pressed  upon  them  from  with- 
out. It  was  lilvo  the  tyranny  which  the  Chil>s  exercised  over 
the  Convention  in  the  time  of  the  French  Revolution.  The 
monks  were  for  the  most  part  laymen,  bnt  laymen  charged 
with  all  the  passions  of  clergy.  The  religious  orders  of  the 
West  have  never  been  used  for  such  purposes,  nor,  it  mnst  be 
added,  subjected  to  snch  treatment.  We  are  told  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  conflict  that  Nestorias  himself  was  the  aggressor. 
The  monks,  who  were  the  first  to  catch  any  scent  of  heresy, 
were  in  the  first  instance  stripped  and  lashed  with  loaded 
whips — laid  on  the  ground  and  beat  as  they  lay.  But  these 
passions  and  penalties  were  not  confined  to  one  party.  Cyril 
brought  with  him  from  Alexandria  the  savage  guard  of  his 
palace,  the  Parabolani,  or  "  Death-defiers,"  whose  original 
function  was  to  bury  the  dead,  but  whose  duty  it  now  became 
to  protect  the  Archbishop  against  all  enemies;  the  sailors, 
whose  rough  life  laid  them  open  to  any  one  who  hired  them; 
the  sturdy  porters  and  beggars,  and  the  bathing-men  from  the 
public  baths.  These  men  sat  at  the  doors  of  the  Council, 
and  the  streets  ran  red  with  the  blood  which  they  shed  with- 
out scruple. 

Barsumas,  the  fierce  monk  with  his  band  of  anchorites  as 
fierce  as  himself,  came  thither  with  his  reputation  ready  made 
for  knocking  heretics  oii  tlie  head  with  the  huge  maces  which 
he  and  his  companions  wielded  with  terrible  force  on  any  one 
who  opposed  them.  The  whole  was  crowned  at  tlie  critical 
moment  by  the  entrance  of  a  body  of  soldiers  with  drawn 
swords  and  charged  lances,  or  with  chains  to  carry  off  the  refrac- 
tory members  to  prison.  Some  hid  themselves  under  the 
benches;  some  Avcre  compelled  to  sign  the  decrees  in  blank. 
Flavian,  Archbishop  of  Constantiiio[)le,  lay  watching  for  the 
moment  of  escape,  when  Dioscorus,  the  Archbishop  of  Alex- 
andria, perceiving  him,  struck  him  in  the  face  with  his  fist; 
the  two  deacons,  one  of  them  afterwards  himself  Archbishop 
of  Alexandria,  seized  him  round  the  waist  and  dashed  liim  to 
the  ground.  Dioscorus  kicked  the  dying  man  on  the  sides  and 
chest.  The  monks  of  Barsumas  struck  him  with  their  clubs 
as  he  lay  on  the  ground.  Barsumas  himself  cried  out  in  the 
Syrian  language,  "  Kill  him,  kill  him."  He  expired  from 
this  savage  treatment  in  the  course  of  a  few  days. 


COUNCIL  AND   CREED  OF  CONSTANTINOPLE.     291 

Such  were  the  scenes  of  disorder,  reaching  their  heisrht  in  the 
Council,  afterwards  called  the  Rubber  Council  at  Ephesus,* 
but  of  which  tlie  indications  spread  through  the  whole  period. 
Dioscorus's  violence  differed  from  that  of  Cyril  in  degree  only, 
not  in  kind.  The  same  crowd  of  ruffians  were  in  all  these 
assemblies,  and  the  fate  which  threatened  the  hesitating  bish- 
ops was  similar. 

Another  influence,  more  gentle  and  more  orderly  but 
equally  potent,  was  that  of  the  Imperial  Court.  Theodosius 
II.  and  his  wife  Eudocia — Marcian,  the  honest  soldier,  and  his 
wife  Pulcheria — were  never  absent  from  the  thoughts  of  the 
leaders  of  the  assemblies.  To  persuade,  cajole,  circumvent  the 
Imperial  emissaries  was  the  incessant  effort  of  either  side.  It 
was  not  by  accident  that  the  decision  of  each  of  these  assem- 
blies coincided  with  the  opinions  of  the  high  personages  then 
reigning  in  the  court.  The  wavering  inind  of  Theodosius  II. 
was  the  point  to  be  won  at  the  Council  of  Ephesus.  Chrysa- 
phius,  the  great  courtier,  was  the  chief  supporter  of  the  Robber 
Council.  Marcian  and  Pulcheria  received  the  tumultuous 
acclamations  of  the  Council  of  Chalcedon.  "  To  Marcian  the 
new  Constantine — to  Pulcheria  the  new  Helena."  The  per- 
sonal motives  of  each  of  these  high  personages  entered  deeply 
into  the  controversy.  Theodosius  was  the  enemy  of  any  one 
who  brought  him  any  trouble.  Chrysaphius  was  the  enemy  of 
Archbishop  Flavian,  who  had  refused  him  the  accustomed 
fees  at  Easter.  Pulcheria  was  influenced  by  jealousy  of  her 
sister-in:law  Eudocia  and  her  hatred  of  Chrysaphius.  The 
letters  of  the  Emperors  were  reckoned  as  "sacred."  The 
Councils  were  convoked  entirely  at  their  summons. 

Another  baser  element  in  these  considerations  was  the  gross 
bribery  practised  by  Cyril.  Together  with  this  acted  the 
influences,  not  unusual  in  such  controversies  —  the  deser- 
tion of  the  unpopular  cause  by  half-hearted  friends;  Nes- 
torius  abandoned  by  those  who  had  looked  up  to  him  as 
their  oracle — Dioscorus  left  alone  in  the  Council  of  Chalcedon 
by  those  who  had  followed  him  through  all  his  violences  in  the 
Robber  Council.     There  was  also  that  which  always  produces 


*  The  decrees  of  the  Council  were  directed  to  be  re\ised  at  Chalcedon,  but 
the  Iiuperial  Government  declined  to  condemn  the  Council  itself. 


292  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

an  effect  on  a  mixed  assembly — the  horror  expressed  by  weak- 
minded  disciples,  who  profess  to  be  and  are  really  sliocked 
by  some  rash  expression  on  the  part  of  their  master,  and 
speakino;  with  bated  breath  and  tears  in  their  eves — Acacius 
of  Mitylene  and  Theodotus  of  Ancyra ;  or  again  some  argu- 
mentative dialectician  who  wishes  to  push  all  arguments  to  their 
extremities,  such  as  Eusebius  of  Doryla^um,  the  old  advocate 
who  never  would  leave  the  simple  Eutyches  to  himself. 

There  were  also  the  rivalries  of  the  great  sees;  Alexandria, 
twice  over,  in  the  person  of  Cyril  and  in  the  person  of  I)i- 
Personal  oscorus,  irritated  by  the  preponderance  of  Con- 
iiirtuences.  stantinople  and  of  Antioch — Rome,  at  the  Robber 
Council,  irritated  in  t!ie  person  of  its  legates,  who  vainly  en- 
deavored to  get  a  hearing  for  their  master's  letter.  There 
was  the  opening  for  every  kind  of  private  rancor — discon- 
tented deacons,  ambitious  priests  denouncing  their  bishops 
when  the  occasion  offered,  before  the  commissioners  sent 
down  by  the  Imperial  Government.  There  was  the  pardonable 
weakness  of  the  bishops,  afraid  of  their  constituencies,  afraid 
of  their  congregations,  afraid  of  their  clergy.  There  were  aged 
prelates  prostrate  on  the  floor,  with  their  faces  on  the  ground, 
crying,  "Have  mercy  upon  us;  have  pity  upon  us."  "They 
will  kill  us  at  home."  "  Have  pity  on  our  gray  hairs."  There 
were  also  the  bishops  of  Asia,  alarmed  for  their  popularity  if 
they  sacrificed  the  privileges  of  the  see  of  Ephesus.  "  Have 
pity  upon  us;  they  will  murder  our  children;  have  pity  on  our 
children;  have  pity  on  us."  It  is  a  scene  which  reminds  us 
of  tlie  most  pitiable  scenes  in  the  elections  of  some  of  our 
modern  representative  assemblies. 

A  curious  circumstance  must  be  noticed  as  confirming  the 
decisions  of  both  assemblies.  The  claim  of  Ephesus  was  sug- 
Local  in-  gcsted  on  the  ground  of  its  accessibility  by  land  and 
fluences.  ^q^^  j^^f]  j^g  ample  supply  of  provisions  in  the  wide 
plain  of  the  Cayster.  But  there  was  a  further  cause  not  men- 
tioned, not  perhaps  occurring  to  those  who  summoned  tlie 
Council,  but  which  materially  contributed  to  its  final  result. 
Ej)liesus  was  the  burial-place,  according  to  tradition,  of  the 
Virgin  Mother,  who  with  John  the  p]vangelist  had  taken 
refuge  there  in  the  close  of  the  first  century.  The  church  in 
which  the  assembly  was  to  be  held  was  the  only  one  in  the 


COUNCIL  AND   CREED  OF  CONSTANTINOPLE.    293 

world  as  yet  dedicated  to  the  Virgin  Mary.  In  the  mind  of 
the  Epbesian  populace  she  had  taken  the  place  of  the  sacred 
image  of  Diana  which  had  so  excited  tiiera  four  centuries 
earlier.  Tiie  passions  of  the  people,  as  described  in  the  nine- 
teenth chapter  of  the  Acts,  might  seem  to  have  been  recalled 
in  some  of  the  scenes  of  the  Council.  AH  these  circumstances 
contributed  to  the  succes  of  the  anti-Ncstorian  cause,  and, 
altbougli  the  honor  of  the  Virgin  was  not  the  primary  cause 
of  the  agitation  of  the  question,  the  triumph  of  Cyril's  party 
in  Epliesus  was  celebrated  as  such. 

The  reasons  for  the  selection  of  Chalcedon  was  still  more 
remarkable,  It  was  the  nearest  approach  to  Constantinople 
without  being  in  the  city  itself.  Chalcedon  was  Scutari.  It 
was  that  splendid  promontory  dear  to  Englishmen,  dear  to  all 
who  have  ever  from  its  height  contemplated  that  glorious 
view.  Even  in  that  age  the  beauty  of  the  situation  attracted 
the  ailmiration  of  spectators.  But  it  was  yet  more  than  this. 
The  church  in  which  the  Council  was  to  be  held  was  that 
which  contained  the  remains*  of  the  virgin  martyr  St. 
Euphemia.  She  was  the  oracle,  the  miracle-worker,  of  the 
neighb'orhood.  The  Archbishop  of  Constantinople  on  great 
emergencies  .entered  the  shrine,  and  (like  the  Bishop  of 
Petra  on  like  occasions  with  the  sacred  fire  at  Jeru.salem) 
inserted  a  sponge  into  the  tomb,  which  he  drew  out  tilled 
with  the  martyr's  blood,  w'nch  was  then  distribntcd,  as  a  cure 
for  all  evils,  to  all  ?^arts  of  tb'^  empire.  It  was  in  this  same 
tomb  that  at  the  ^.lose  of  the  Council  the  magistrates  and 
bishops  placed  the  (^isputed  documents  which  contained  llie 
faith  of  the  assemM- ;  and  tradition  added  that  the  dead 
woman  raised  m  her  hand  the  roll  w'Mch  contained  the  true 
doctrine,!  r.nd  that  the  roh  which  contained  the  heretical 
doctrine  lav  dishonored  vX  her  feet. 

The  whole  proceedings  of  the  Council  of  Ephesus  have  been 
summarized  by  an  eminent  personage  J  who  knew  what  he  was 
saying,  and  said  what  he  nn-ant. 

"Even  tbose  Councils  which  were  oecumenical  have  notliino: 


*  They  were  afterwards  transferred  to  Saint  Sophia,  and  subsequently  to 
the  Abbey  of  Saint  Euphc-mia  in  Calabria. 
t  I  liave  seen  piciures  at  Athos  representing  this  tradition. 
%  Cardinal  Newman's  Historical  sketches,  pp.  2^5-337,  350,  351. 


294  CERI8T1AN  INSTITUTIONS. 

to  boast  of  in  regard  to  the  Fathers,  taken  individually,  which 
compose  them,    Tiiey  appear  as  the  antagonist  host  in  a  battle, 

not  as  thi3  shepherds  of  tlieir  people 

"  '  What  is  the  good  of  a  Council,'  Cyril  would  say,  'when 
the  controversy  is  already  settled  without  one?'  in  some- 
Cardinal  thing  like  the  frame  of  mind  of  the  great  Duke  of 
description  Wellington  years  ago,  when  he  spoke  in  such 
^iVf^E^*!!"^  depreciatory  terms  of  a  '  county  meeting.'  .... 
sus.  llow  the  Emperor  fixed  the  meeting  of  the  Council 

for  Pentecost,  June  V  ;  how  Nestorius  made  his  appearance 
with  a  body-guard  of  two  imperial  cohorts;  how  Cyril  brought 
up  his  fifty  Egyptian  Bishops,  staunch  and  eager,  not  for- 
getting to  add  to  them  the  stout  seamen  of  his  transports; 
how  Memnon  had  a  following  of  forty  bishops,  and  reinforced 
them  with  a  like  body  of  sturdy  peasants  from  his  farms;  how 
the  assembled  Fathers  were  seared  and  bewildered  by  these 
preparations  for  battle,  and,  wishing  it  all  over,  waited  with 
impatience  a  whole  fortniglit  for  the  Syrian  bishops  while 
Cyril  preached  in  the  churches  against  Nestorius;  how  in  the 
course  of  this  fortnight  some  of  their  number  fell  sick  and 
died  ;  how  the  Syrians,  on  the  other  hand,  had  been  thrown 
out  by  the  distance  of  their  sees  from  Antioch  (their  place  of 
rendezvous),  from  the  length  of  the  land  journey  thence  to 
Ephesus,  by  the  wet  weather  and  the  bad  roads,  by  the  loss  of 
their  horses,  and  by  the  fatigue  of  their  forced  marches  ;  how 
they  were  thought  by  Cyril's  party  to  be  unpunctual  on  pur- 
pose, but  by  themselves  to  be  most  unfortunate  in  their  tardi- 
ness, because  they  wished  to  shelter  Nestorius;  how,  when 
they  were  now  a  few  days'  journey  from  Ephesus,  they  sent 
on  hither  an  express  to  herald  tlieir  api)roach,  but  how  Cyril 
would  not  wait  beyond  the  foitnight,  though  neither  the 
Western  bishops  nor  even  the  Pope's  legates  had  yet  arrived; 
how  on  June  22  he  opened  the  Council  in  spite  of  a  pro- 
test from  sixty-one  out  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  bishops 
there  assembled;  how  within  one  summer's  day  he  cited, 
condemned,  deposed,  and  degraded  Nestorius,  and  passed 
his  twelve  theses  of  doctrine  called  '  Anathematisms,'  which 
the  Pope  apparently  had  never  seen,  and  which  the 
Syrian  bishops,  then  on  tlieir  way  to  Ephesus,  had  repudiated 
the  year  before  as  ApoUinarian ;  and  how,  as  if  reckless  of 


COUNCIL  AND  CREED  OF  CONSTANTINOPLE.    295 

this  imputation,  he  suffered  to  stand  among  the  formal  testi- 
monies to  guide  the  Bishops  in  their  decision  gathered 
from  the  Fathers,  and  still  extant,  an  extract  from  a  writing 
of  Timotheus,  the  Apollinarian,  if  not  of  Apollinarins  himself, 
ascribing  this  heretical  ducament  to  Pope  Julius,  the  friend  of 
Athanasius ;  how  in  the  business  of  the  Council  he  showed 
himself  confidential  with  Eiityches,  afterwards  the  author  of 
that  very  Monophysite  heresy  of  which  Apullinarius  was  the 
forerunner  ;  how  on  the  fifth  day  after  these  proceedings  the 
Syrian  bishops  arrived,  and  at  once,  with  the  protection  of  an 
armed  force,  and  without  the  due  forms  of  ecclesiastic  law, 
held  a  separate  Council  of  forty-three  bishops,  Theodoret 
being  one  of  them,  and  anathematized  Cyril  and  Memnon  and 
their  followers;  and  how  the  Council  terminated  in  a  dis- 
cussion, which  continued  for  nearly  two  years  after  it,  till  at 
length  Cyril,  John,  and  Theodoret,  and  the  others  on  either 
side,  made  up  the  quarrel  by  mutual  explanations — all  this  is 
matter  of  history." 

Such  is  the  summary  of  one  not  like  y  to  overcharge  the 
picture  of  the  misdeeds  of  th:  Council  of  Ephesus.  We 
will  add  i:he  literal  report  of  :omc  of  the  scenes  that  took 
place  at  the  Council  of  Chalcedon.  It  irom  the  Acts  of  the 
Council.* 

"  The  illustrious  Judges  and  the  honorable  Senate  ordered 
that  the  most  reverend   Bishop  Theodoret  should   enter,  that 
he  may  be  a  partaker   of  the  Council,  because  the  Report  of 
holy  Archbishop   Leo    had  restored   the  bishopric   of*cha^"'^-'* 
to  him ;  and  the  most   sacred   and   pious  Emperor  don. 
Las  determined  that  he  is  to  be  present  at  the   Holy  Council. 
And  on  the  entrance  of  Theodoret,  the  most  reverend  bishops 
of  Egypt,  Illyricum,  and   Palestine  called  out:    'Have  merjjy 
upon  us!     The  faith  is  destroyed.     The  Canons  cast  him  out. 
Cast  out  the  teacher  of  Nestorius.'     The  most  religious  bishops 
of  the  East  and  those  of  Pontns,  Asia,  and  Thrace  shouted 
out:  'We  had  to  bign  a  blank  paper;  we  were  scourged,  and 
so  we  signed.     Cast  out  the  Manichaeans  ;  cast  out  theenemies 
of  Flavian;  cast  out  the  enemies  of  the  Fai^h.'     Dioscorus, 
the  most  religious  Bishop  of  Alexandria,  said :  '  Why  is  Cyril 

♦  Hardouln,  il.  74. 


296  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

cast  out?  He  it  is  who  is  anathematized  by  Theodoret.' 
The  Eastern  and  Pontic  r.nd  Asian  and  Thracian  most  relig- 
ions bishops  shontcd  out:  'Cast  ont  Diosconis  tlie  murderer. 
AVlio  does  not  know  the  deeds  of  Dioscorus?'  The  Eovptian 
and  the  lll}rian  and  the  Palestinian  most  religions  bishops 
shouted  out:  'Long  years  to  thu  Empress!'  The  Eastern 
and  the  most  religious  bishops  A.ith  .hem  shouted  out:  'Cast 
out  the  murderers!'  The  Egyptian.,  and  the  most  religious 
bii-hops  with  them  shouted  oi.t:  'Tho  Empress  has  cast  out 
Nestoiius,  Long  years  to  the  Orthodox  Empress.  The 
Council  will  not  receive  Theodoret.'  Theodoret,  the  most 
n  ligious  bishop,  came  up  into  the  midst  and  said  :  '  T  have 
ofJVred  petitions  to  the  most  godlike,  most  religious  and  Christ- 
luviug  masters  of  the  woild,  and  1  have  related  the  disasters 
which  have  befallen  me,  and  1  claim  that  they  shall  be  read.' 
The  most  illustrious  Judg-^s  and  the  most  honorable  Senate 
said:  '  Theodoret,  the  nnjst  religious  bishop,  liaving  received 
his  propiT  jilace  from  the  most  lioly  Archbishop  of  the  re- 
nowned Rome,  has  occupied  now  the  place  of  an  accuser. 
AN'iierefore  suffer  that  there  be  not  confusion  at  the  hearing, 
and  that  the  things  which  have  had  a  beginning  may  be 
finished,  for  prejudice  from  the  appearance  of  the  most  relig- 
ious Theodoret  will  occur  to  no  one,  reserving  aftei  wards  e\  try 
argument  foi  you  and  for  him  if  you  desire  to  make  one  on 
one  side  or  the  other;  especially  if  without  writing  there  ap- 
pears to  be  a  testimony  to  his  orthodoxy  from  the  most 
ri'ligious  Bishop  of  Antioch,  the  Gicat  City.'  And  after 
Theodoret,  the  most  religious  bishop,  had  sat  /lown  in  the 
midst,  the  Eastein  and  the  most  religious  bishops  who  were 
with  them  shouted  out:  'Lie  is  worthy!  lie  is  worthy!' 
The  Egyptians  and  the  most  religious  bishops  who  were  with 
them  hhouted  out:  'Do  not  call  liim  a  bishop,  lie  is  not  a 
bishop.  Cast  out  the  fighter  against  God !  Cast  out  the 
Jew  ! '  The  Easterns  and  the  most  leligious  bishops  who  were 
with  them  shouted  out:  'The  Orthodox  for  the  Council !  Cast 
out  the  rebels  !  Cast  out  the  murderers  ! '  The  Egyptians  and 
the  most  religious  bishops  wlio  were  with  them  shouted  out: 
"Cast  ont  the  fighter  against  God!  Cast  out  the  insnlter 
against  Christ !  Long  years  to  the  Empiess!  Long  years  to 
the  Emperor!     Long  years  to  the  Orthodox  Emperor!     Theo- 


COUNCIL  AND  CREED  OF  CONSTANTINOPLE.    297 

doret  has  anathematized  Cyril.'  The  Easterns  and  the  most 
religious  bishops  who  were  with  them  shouted  out:  'Cast 
out  the  murderer  Dioscorus  ! '  The  Egyptians  and  the  most 
religious  bishops  with  them  shouted  out:  'Long  years  to 
the  Senate !  lie  lias  not  the  right  of  speech.  He  is  ex- 
pelled from  the  whole  Synod ! '  Basil,  the  most  religious 
Bishop  of  Trajanopolis,  in  the  province  of  Rhodope,  rose  up 
and  said:  'Theodoret  has  been  condemned  by  us.'  The 
Egyptians  and  the  most  religious  bishops  with  them  shouted 
out:  'Theodoret  has  accused  Cyril.  We  cast  out  Cyril  if  we 
receive  Theodoret.  The  Canons  cast  out  Theodoret.  God 
h;is  turned  away  from  him.'  The  most  illustrious  Judges  and 
the  most  honorable  Senate  said :  '  These  vulgar  cries  are  not 
worthy  of  bishops,  nor  will  they  assist  either  side.  Suffer, 
therefore,  the  reading  of  all  the  documents.'  The  Egyptians 
and  the  most  religious  bishops  with  them  shouted  out:  'Cast 
out  one  man,  and  we  will  all  hear.  We  shout  out  in  the 
Cause  of  Religion.  We  say  these  things  for  the  sake  of  the 
Orthodox  Faith.'  The  most  illustrious  Judges  and  the  honor- 
able Senate  said :  '  Rather  acquiesce,  in  God's  name,  that  the 
hearing  of  the  documents  should  take  place,  and  concede  that 
all  shall  be  read  in  proper  order.'  And  at  last  they  were 
silent.  And  Constantine,  the  most  holy  Secretary  and  Magis- 
trate of  the  Diviiie  Synod,  read  these  documents." 

One  more  painful  scene  must  be  given — the  insistence  that 
Theodoret  should  pronounce  a  curse  on  his  ancient  friend. 
"  The  most  reverend  bishops  all  stood  before  the  rails  of 
the  most  holy  altar  and  shouted  :  '  Theodoret  must  now  anath- 
ematize Nestorius.'  Theodoret,  the  most  reverend  bishop, 
passed  into  the  midst  and  said:  'I  gave  my  petition  to  the 
most  divine  and  religious  Emperor,  and  I  gave  the  documents 
to  the  most  reverend  bishops  occupying  the  place  of  the  most 
sacred  Archbishop  Leo;  and,  if  you  think  fit,  they  shall  be 
sent  to  you,  and  you  will  know  what  1  think.'  The  most 
reverend  bishops  shouted :  '  We  want  nothing  to  be  read — ■ 
only  anathematize  Nestorius.'  Theodoret,  the  most  reverend 
bishop,  said  :  '  1  was  brought  up  by  the  orthodox,  I  was  taught 
by  the  orthodox,  I  have  preached  orthodoxy,  and  not  only 
Nestorius  and  Eutyches,  but  any  man  who  thinks  not  rightly, 
I  avoid  and  count  him  an  alien.'     The  most  reverend,  bishops 

13* 


298  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

shouted  out:  'Speak  plainly;  anathema  to  Nestorius  and  his 
doctrine — anathema  to  Nestorius  and  to  those  who  befriend 
him  1 '  "  Theodoret,  the  most  reverend  bishop,  said :  "  Of  truth 
I  do  not  speak,  except  that  the  Creed  is  pleasing  to  God.  I 
came  to  satisfy  you,  not  because  I  think  of  my  country,  not 
because  1  desire  honor,  but  because  I  have  been  falsely  ac- 
cused, and  I  anathematize  every  impenitent  heretic.  I  anath- 
ematize Nestorius  and  Eutyches,  and  every  one  who  says 
that  there  are  two  Sons."  Whilst  he  was  speaking,  the  most 
reverend  bishops  shouted  out :  "  Speak  plainly ;  anathematize 
Nestorius  and  those  who  think  with  him."  Theodoret,  the 
most  reverend  bishop,  said  :  *'  Unless  I  set  forth  at  length  my 
faith  I  cannot  speak.  I  believe" —  And  whilst  he  spoke  the 
most  reverend  bishops  shouted :  "  He  is  a  heretic !  he  is  a 
Nestorian  !  Thou  art  the  heretic  !  Anathema  to  Nestorius  and 
to  any  one  who  does  not  say  that  the  Holy  Virgin  Mary  is  the 
Parent  of  God,  and  who  divides  the  only  begotten  Son  into 
two  Sons."  Theodoret,  the  most  reverend  bishop,  said : 
"  Anathema  to  Nestorius  and  to  whoever  denies  that  the  Holy 
Virgin  Mary  is  the  Parent  of  God,  and  who  divides  the  only 
begotten  Son  into  two  Sons.  I  have  subscribed  the  definition 
of  faith  and  the  epistle  of  the  most  holy  Archbishop  Leo." 
And  after  all  this  he  said,  "  Farewell."  * 

It  is  the  conduct  of  the  3d  and  4th  Councils  in  the  col- 
lective capacity  which  more  than  justities  the  objections  of 
Gregory  Naziaiizen  to  the  2d  Council.  It  is  this  which  repre- 
sents the  otKcial  voice  of  the  clergy  of  the  Church  in  that  age. 
The  only  glimmer  of  common  sense  and  charity  is  in  the 
conduct  of  the  Imperial  Commissioners,  who  controlled  and 
guided  the  Council  of  Chalcedon.  The  faithfulness  of  the  re- 
porters lets  us  see  step  by  step  Theodorei's  agonizing  reluc- 
tance openly  to  disavow  his  friend,  and  at  last  his  indignant 
"  Farewell." 

])ut  there  is  descernible  at  times  the  indication  of  a  better  feel- 
ing through  this  furious  party  spirit.  John  of  Aiiti'K'li  with  "the 
Moderate  eastern  bishops" — Flavian  himself  at  the  earlier 
tendencies,  period — rcsoiutcly  continued  to  insist  on  the  duty  of 
conciliatory   measures.     The  Archbishop  of  Rome,  also,  espe- 

*  Hardouin,  li.  448. 


COUNCIL  AND  CREED  OF  CONSTANTINOPLE.    299 

cially  after  the  experience  of  the  Robber  Council,  recommended 
a  halt  in  the  vehement  pursuit  after  heresy,  and  to  be  content 
with  letting  things  alone.  Above  all  there  is  the  one  man, 
Theodoret,  whose  position,  with  many  drawbacks,  may  in  some 
respects  be  compared  to  the  isolated  position  of  Lord  Falkland. 
He  had  the  courage  to  defend  his  former  friend  Nestorins — 
to  declare  that  he  had  never  been  properly  deposed,  and  that 
bis  successor  would  be  an  usurper.  He  submitted  at  the  last, 
and  brought  his  ancient  friend  Alexander  of  llierapoiis  to 
submit  also,  but  only  for  the  sake  of  peace.  He  rejoiced  with 
an  exceeding  joy  on  hearing  of  the  repose  of  the  Christian 
world  on  the  death  of  the  turbulent  Cyril — "  The  East  and 
Egypt  are  henceforth  united ;  envy  is  dead,  and  heresy  is 
buried  with  her."  *  He  was  still  attacked  with  ignoble  ani- 
mosity by  Dioscorus.  But  on  the  whole,  and  with  a  formal 
submission  on  his  part,  he  was  accepted.  The  admiration  in 
which  he  was  held  is  to  a  certain  degree  an  anticipation  of  the 
judgment  of  the  English  historian, — "  Who  would  not  meet 
the  judgment  of  the  Divine  Redeemer  loaded  with  the  errors 
of  Nestorius  rather  than  with  the  barbarities  of  Cyril  ?"  \  It 
may  also  be  a  comment  on  the  saying  of  the  contemporary 
Isidroe,  "  Sympathy  such  as  Theodoret's  may  not  see  clearly, 
but  antipathy  such  as  Cyril's  does  not  see  at  all."  J 

It  was  in  accordance  with  this  more  moderate  feelirg  that  we 
may  believe  the  decree  to  have  been  issued  which  has  made 
the  Council  of  Ephesus  memorable. 

In  the  sixth  session,  in  a  spirit  which  endeavored  to  control 

the   ardor  of  controversy,  it  was  ordered  that  no  Decree  of 

one   should  set  forth  or  put  together  or  compose  Ephesus 
1        1        L'     1  1  T  '^       1  XT-  against  a 

any  creed  other  §  than  that  denned  at  JNicsea  on  new  creed. 

pain  of  deposition  if  clergy,  of  excommunication  if  laity.     The 

original  form  of  the  Creed  of   Nicsea,  which  this  decree  is 

intended  to  guard,  must  here  be  given : 

*  The  genuineness  of  this  letter  has  been  doubted,  but  chiefly  because  of  its 
attack  on  Cyril.  It  was  quoted  against  Theodoret  at  the  fifth  General  Council. 
See  the  question  argued  on  both  sides  in  Hefele,  iii.  p.  851. 

+  Milman's  Latin  Christianiti/,  i.  145. 

t  Quoted  in  Cardinal  Newman's  Historical  Sketches,  ii.  356.  The  whole  letter 
is  worth  reading. 

§  It  has  been  argued  that  erepav  means  of  "a  discordant  creed,"  and  is  dis- 
tingiiished  from  dAA.r)i'.  "another."  This  is  completely  dispi-oved  by  Professor 
Swainson,  Nicene  and  Apostles'  Creeds  Compared,  p.  ItiG,  who  shows  that  the 
two  words  were  used  promiscuously. 


300  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

We  believe  in  one  God,  the  Father  Almighty,  Maker  of  all  things 
both  visible  and  invisible;  and  in  one  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  the  Son  of 
God,  begotten  from  the  Father,  only  begotten,  that  is  to  say,  from 
the  substance  of  the  Father;  God  of  God,  Light  of  Light,  true  God 
of  true  God;  begotten,  not  made;  of  one  substance  with  the  Father, 
by  Whom  all  things  were  made,  botli  things  in  heaven  and  things 
on  the  earth;  Who  for  us  men  and  for  our  salvation  came  down, 
and  was  made  flesh;  was  made  man,  suffered,  and  rose  again  on 
the  third  day;  ascended  into  the  heavens;  conieth  to  judge  the 
quick  and  tlie  dead;  and  in  the  Holy  Spirit.  But  those  who  say 
there  was  a  time  when  He  was  not,  and  before  being  begotten  He 
was  not,  and  that  He  came  out  of  what  was  not  existing,  or  that 
He  is  of  another  person  {vno6rd6eQoi)  or  essence  (oi)(?/a),  or  is  cre- 
ated, or  is  variable,  or  is  changeable, — all  these  the  Catholic  and 
Apostolic  Church  anathematizes. 

With  this  decision  the  Council  of  Ephesus  believed  that  it 
had  forever  excluded  the  possibility  of  any  new  confession  of 
faith,  and  had  placed  the  Creed  of  Nicsea  on  an  impregnable 
basis.  The  motive  is  obvious :  to  protect  what  had  already 
been  done  in  tlie  first  General  Council,  and  to  guard  against 
the  iiiultiplicatinn  of  creeds,  of  which  that  age  had  already  had 
sufficient  experience.  It  is  curious  tliat  in  hoth  particulars 
this  decree  entirely  failed.  The  Creed  of  Nica^a,  as  thus  set 
forth,  has  now  been  discontinued  throughout  the  whole 
Church  of  the  West,  and,  with  the  exception  of  the  Mono- 
physito,  Nestorian,  and  perhaps  the  Armenian  Churches,* 
throughout  the  whole  Church  of  the  East.  Its  anathemas  are 
no  longer  recited,  although  in  the  time  of  its  first  promulgation 
they  were  regarded  as  of  the  utmost  importance  ;f  and  in 
other  respects,  as  shall  be  noticed  presently,  its  contents  have 
undergone  serious  modifications.  The  creeds  wliich  it  was  in- 
tended to  prevent  have  been  multiplieil  beyond  imagination  in 
the  numberless  creeds  of  the  fifth  century,  the  Athanasian 
Creed  of  the  ninth,  the  confessions  of  Trent,  Augsburg, 
Geneva,  and  London  of  the  sixteenth  century. 

It  is  by  no  means  clear  by  what  process  the  change  was 
-,  ^  .  effected,  but  wo  can  faintly  trace  it  through  the  dis- 
Constanti-  cussions  of  the  time.  The  first  step,  as  usual  in 
nople.  these  innovations,  was  the  most  momentous.     Pre- 

vious to  the  Council  of  Constantinople,  which,  as  we  have  already 

*  See  Swainson's  Nicene  and  Apostles'  Creeds  Compared,  p.  143. 
t  See  Lectures  on  Eastern  Church,  Lect.  IV. 


COUNCIL  AJW  CUBED   OF  CONSTANTINOPLE.     30I 

seen,  adopted  no  creed  of  its  own,  there  was  a  creed  existincr 
in  the  writings  of  Epiphanius,*  which  agreed  in  many  respectl 
with  the  creed  now  commonly,  but  erroneously,  known  as  the 
Creed    of  Constantinople.      Besides  this,  there  is  a  considera- 
ble resemblance  between  the  present  form  of  that  creed  and 
what  IS  preserved  to  us  as  the  Creed  of  Jerusalem  f  in  the 
writings  of  Cyril,  the  bishop  of  that  city.     There  is,  further 
a  late  tradition  that  the  form  of   the  creed  now  professino-  to 
be  that  of  Constantinople  was  drawn  up  by  Gregory  of  N\^s«a 
who  was  present,  as  we  have  seen,  in  that  assemblv.     But  it 
was  in    the  Council   of  Chalcedon,  for  the  first  time,  that  we 
have  the  startling  announcement  made  by  Aetius,  Archdeacon 
of  Constantinople,  that  he  was  going  to  read  what  had  been 
determined  upon  by  the  one  hundred  and  fifty  bishops  con- 
gregated in  Constantinople.     It  is  conjectured  U.at,  from  one 
or  other  of   the  three  sources  indicated,  from  the  writino-s  of 
Jipiphanms,  or  of  Cyril  of  Jerusalem,  or  of  Gregory  of  Nvs^^a 
tins  creed  may  have  been  the  subject  of  some  conversation  in 
the  Council   of  Constantinople,  and   that  this  was  made  the 
ground  or  the  pretext  of  its  being  represented   by  Aetius  as 
the  Creed  of  that  Council  itself.     The  accuracy  of  Aetius   as 
ot  the  other  members  of  the  Council,  is  not  above  suspicion.! 
ihe  creed  was  as  follows: 

an7e-xl-u/ wl  nf""?!  ?,°-^'  "^^^ .^^'l^'^'  Almighty.  Maker  of  heaven 
Jesu  r  n-  !?/«;  "^f?^  T'^^^  ='°''  i-i^isiWe;  and  in  one  Lord 
Jesu,  Ch  ^t.  the  bon  ot  God,  the  only  l.egotten.  Who  was  beirot- 
to„  trom  tl.e  Father  before  all  worlds.  Light  of  Light,  true  God  of 
iw  AA^  •  ^'p'".^°'  not  made;  of  one  substance  with  the  Father 
by  Wliom  all  thmgs  exist;  Who  for  us  men  and  for  our  salva  ion 
came  down  and  was  made  flesh  of  the  Holy  G Ik!  t  .an ^o  Mary 
t^ie  Vugm  and  was  made  man.  and  was  crucified  for  us  under 
P  n  ,us  Pilate,  and  suffered  and  was  buried,  and  rose  a^ain  the 
hiid   day   accordmg    to   the    Scriptures,    and    ascended    fnto   the 

aS'f  with"  loiv?''  '"t  ''^^t  "-"^-  'r^'  «^  ''''  Father,  and  comi.h 
ag.un  with  glory  to  judge  the  quick  and  the  dead;   of  whose  kin- 

tZ^f-  "'^"^  ",°.°  '":'•  '"^"^^  '"  the  Spirit,  which  is  holy  w  fdi 
^sovereign  and  l.fegivmg,  which  proceedeth  from  the  Father 
Whichwith  the  Father  and  the  Son  is  worshipped  and  glorified  i 

*  Epiphanius^nc/fomiKs  (pp.  7r-R3),  a.d.  374 
xiit'4^rSo^rt^"ii^e??4-^rPP^^^  PP-  ^^'-^  Tillemont,  I.,  p.  4.1; 


302  CnRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

Which  spake  by  the  prophets;  in  one  holy  Catholic  and  Apostolic 
Church;  we  acknowledge  one  Baptism  for  the  remission  of  sins; 
we  look  for  the  resurrection  of  the  dead,  and  the  life  of  the  world 
to  come. 

This  creed,  although  twice  formally  recited  at  the  Council 
of  Chalcedon,  yet  was  not  allowed  to  take  the  exclusive  place 
given  by  the  Council  of  Ephesus  to  the  Creed  of  Nicsea.  The 
decree  of  Ephesus  was  still  sufficiently  powerful  to  restrain  the 
Chalcedonian  Fathers  from  introducing  this  creed,  so  called  of 
Constantinople,  into  the  place  of  the  one  authorized  Confes- 
sion of  Faith.  But  as  time  rolled  on  this  provision  was 
doubly  set  aside.  The  Creed  of  Nica^a,  as  we  have  seen,  is 
now  read  in  no  European  church ;  and  the  creed  professedly 
of  Constantinople,  really  the  production  of  some  unknown 
church  or  father,  gradually  superseded  it.  The  Emperor 
Justin,  in  the  year  568,  first  ordered  that  it  should  be  recited 
in  the  public  services  of* the  Church;  and  from  that  moment 
it  has  assumed  its  present  position. 

It  is  difficult  to  trace  precisely  the  motives  by  which  this 
great  change  was  effected.  It  would  appear,  however,  to  have 
been  the  result  of  that  lull  in  ecclesiastical  controversy  which 
succeeded  to  the  terrible  scenes  of  the  Ephesian  and  Chalcedo- 
nian Councils.*  Some  of  the  additions  to  the  Nicene  Creed 
might  have  seemed  to  have  incurred  the  censure  of  the  Ephesian 
Council  not  only  in  the  letter  but  in  the  spirit.  The  clause, 
"  lie  was  begotten  of  the  Holy  Ghost  and  of  Mary  the  Virgin,"  \ 
did  not  exist  in  the  Creed  of  Nicaea,  and  was  in  fact  vehemently 
contested  in  the  Council  of  Ephesus,  as  having  been  brought 
forward  by  Nestorius  and  as  expressive  of  his  view.  The 
clauses  also  relating  to  the  Divine  Spirit  were  not  contained 
in  the  original  Creed  of  Nicaja,  and  were  perhaps  added  in  or- 
der to  meet  the  Macedonian  heretics.  The  omission  or  trans- 
position of  the  words  "God  of  God,"  "the  Only  begotten," 
"that  is  to  say,  from  the  substance  of  the  Father,"  are,  to  say 
the  least,  unwarranted  interferences  with  a  document  where 
every  word  and  every  position  of  every  word  are  deemed 
of  importance.  But  the  Creed  of  Chalcedon  (or  Constantino- 
ple), however  doubtful  its  origin,  may  still  be  regarded  as,  on 

♦  Hort's  Dissertations,  pp.  110-186.  t  Ibid.  p.  IIS. 


COUNCIL  AJW  CREED  OF  CONSTANTINOPLE.    303 

the  whole,  an  improvement  on  that  memorable  document 
wl.icli  It  supplanted,  althoucrh  under  the  penalty  of  depriva- 
tion of  their  orders  to  all  the  clergy  and  bishops  who  use  it, 
and  of  excommunication  to  the  laity  who  adopt  it  The  ac- 
quiescence (if  so  be)  of  the  original  Council  of  Constantinople 
in  a  private  document  which  came  before  them,  sanctioned  by 
the  authority  of  Cyril  of  Jerusalem  and  of  Grofrory  of  Nvssa 
would  be  in  conformity  with  the  abstinence  from  further  doo-' 
niatism  into  which  they  were  driven  almost  inevitably  by  a  weari- 
w-^'^i  ^^"^^^  transaction  in  which  they  were  'involved 

With  this  also  would  agree  the  more  moderate  counsels  which 
we  have  already  noticed,  belonojinir  to  what  m.-.y  be  called  the 
central  party  at  Ephesus  and  Chalcedon,  and  the  deference  at 
last  paid  to  Theodoret.  The  total  omission  of  the  Nicene 
anathemas  was  a  distinct  step  in  this  direction.  The  condem- 
nation of  any  one  who  expressed  that  the  Son  was  of  a  dif- 
ferent "person"  (or  "hypostasis")  from  the  Father  micrht 
well  become  startling  to  those  who  were  becoming  famifiar 
with  the  later  formula,  which  at  last  issued  in  the  directly  con- 
trary proposition  by  pronouncing  a  like  anathema  on  any  one 
who  maintained  that  He  was  of  the  same  "hypostasis." 

It  was  one  of  the  constant  charges  against  Basil  and  Gregory 
that  they  were  unwilling  to  define  precisely  and  polemically 
the  doctrine  of  the  Divine  Spirit.     Those  who  read  the  expo- 
sition of   this  doctrine  as  set  forth  in  the  Greek*  of   these 
clauses  will  be  surprised  to  sec  how  wonderfully  the  harshnesses 
and  roughnesses  that  appear  in  the  English  or'Latin  translation 
disappear  in  the  subtle,  yet  simple,  language  of  the  oriainal 
What  may  have  been  the  feelings  of  the  followers  of  Macedo- 
nius  we  know  not;  but  we  may  be  certain   that  no  sect  now 
existing  whether  belonging  to  the  so-called  orthodox  or  the 
so-called  heretical  churches,  could  find  any  difficulty  in  accept- 
ing, in  their  original  form,  the  abstract  and  general  phrases  in 
which  the  Biblical  doctrine  of  thT3  impersonality  and  neutrality 
ot  ttie  bacred  Influence  is  set  forth. 

Again,  the  limitation  of  the  holy  inspiration  (the  "  Holy 

,1  ^  .'"""'^«.  Tb  Kvpiov,  TO  ^(ooTTotoi/,  TO  «  ToO  HaTpb?  «7rop6vdu6^o./,  jh  (rvv  UaraC 
nnreH  tpitVi  "fV,  ,  t  «   j         j  "  ^•'""ca^u^ej'oi',  to    AaArjcrav   oca    Tuiv    IIpoffinTioi'"  com- 

K,n"'^W'see°HortfpS!^t^:^^.^S''  ^^'^°  IP-^-^eeaeti.  from  tlTe^F^ther'rd 


304  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

Spirit  spoke  by  the  prophets")  is  a  remarkable  instance  at 
once  of  insight  into  the  true  nature  of  the  Biblical  writings, 
and  also  of  tlie  moderation  of  the  highest  minds  of  that  age, 
compared  with  the  fanciful  and  extravagant  theories  that  have 
sometimes  prevailed  in  modern  times  on  that  subject.  The 
other  parts  of  the  Bible,  the  other  writings  of  the  great  and 
good,  are  no  doubt  the  offspring  of  the  iJivine  Mind,  but  it  is 
in  the  prophetical  writings  that  the  essence  of  Christian  mo- 
rality and  doctrine  is  brongiit  out. 

Yet  once  more,  the  definition  of  Baptism  ("  I  believe  in  one 
Baptism  for  the  remission  of  sins"),  which  has  been  some- 
times quoted  as  if  decisive  of  the  whole  question  then  at  issue 
on  the  intricate  question  of  the  mystical  or  moral  effect  of 
Baptism,  is  couched  in  terms  so  studiously  general  as  to  include 
not  only  Christian  Baptism,  but  the  Baptism  of  John,  from 
which,  in  the  language  of  technical  theology,  no  transcendental 
operations  could  be  expected.  Only  by  the  most  violent 
anachronisms  and  distortions  of  languMge  can  tl;c  scholastic 
doctrines  of  the  sudden  transformation  of  baptized  infants  be 
imported  into  words  which  embrace  the  doctrine  of  Baptism 
in  the  largest  formula  which  the  comprehensive  language  of 
Scripture  has  furnished.* 

Again,  the  questionable  phrase,  "  the  Resurrection  of  the 
Flesh  "  in  the  Apostles'  Creed  is  here  represented  by  the  Bib- 
lical expression,  "  Res^urrection  of  the  Dead." 

Lastly,  it  is  to  be  observed  that  Nicephorus  ascribes  all  these 
changes  to  Gregory  of  Nyssa,  whose  great  name,  if  he  in  any 
way  took  them  up,  would,  more  than  any  other  single  cause, 
have  led  to  their  popular  acceptance,  not  only  from  his  own 
learning  and  genius,  but  from  the  fame  of  his  brother  Basil, 
and  from  the  influence — at  any  rate  at  the  beginning  of  the 
Council — of  his  friend.  The  tradition  that  these  words  were 
derived  from  Gregory  of  Nyssa,  whether  borne  out  by  histori- 
cal evidence  or  not,  has  never  been  disputed  on  dogmatical 
grounds,  is  important  as  showing  that  the  orthodox  Eastern 
Church  was  not  ashamed  of  receiving  its  most  solemn  dechira- 
tioii  of  Christian  faith  from  one  who,  had  he  lived  in  our  times, 
would  have  been  pronounced  by  some  as  a  dangerous  heretic. 

*  See  Chapter  I. 


COUNCIL  AND   CREED   OF  CONSTANTINOPLE.     305 

There  can  be  no  doubt  in  the  mind  of  any  one*  who  has  ex- 
amined his  writings— and  it  is  freely  admitted,  indeed  urged, 
by  theologians  without  the  sligiitest  suspicion  of  latitudinarian- 
ism — that  Gregory  of  Nyssa  held  the  opinion  shared  with  him 
by  Origen,  and  although  less  distinctly  by  Gregory  of  Naziau- 
zus,  that  there  was  a  hope  for  the  final  restoration  of  the 
wicked  in  the  other  world.  And  whether  or  not  he  actually 
drew  up  the  concluding  clauses  of  the  so-called  Creed  of  Con- 
stantinople, there  is  no  doubt  that  Gregory  of  Nyssa  was  pres- 
ent at  the  Council  of  Constantinople — that  he,  if  *auy  one, 
must  have  impressed  his  own  sense  upon  thein — and  that  to 
him,  and  through  him  to  the  Council,  the  clause  which  speaks 
of  the  "life  iu  the  world  to  come"  must  have  included  the 
hope  that  the  Divine  justice  and  mercy  are  not  controlled  by 
the  powers  of  evil,  that  sin  is  not  eternal,  and  that  in  that 
"world  to  come"  punishment  will  be  corrective  and  not  final, 
and  will  be  ordered  by  a  Love  and  Justice  the  height  and 
depth  of  which  is  beyond  the  narrow  thoughts  of  man  to 
conceive. 


*  See  especially  Catech.  Orat.  cli.  xxvi.  De  lis  qui  prematura  abripiuntur  ch 
XV.  De  Anima  et  Resurrectioiie  ton  Phil.  ii.  10;  1  Cor.  xv.  aS).  The  contrary 
has  been  maintained  by  a  recent  writer.  Vincenzo,  in  four  voIum.-s.  on  the 
writings  of  Gregory  of  Nyssa.  But  tliis  is  done,  not  as  in  former  times  (Tille- 
mont.  vol  IX.  p  (502),  by  denying  the  genuineness  of  the  passages  cited  in  favor 
ot  the  milder  view,  but  by  quoting  passages  from  other  parts  of  his  works, 
containing  apparently  contradictory  sentiments.  This  might  be  done  equally 
m  the  case  of  Origen.  of  Archbishop  Tillotson.  and  of  Bish.jp  Xewton,  and  to 
any  one  who  Knows  the  writings  of  tliat  age  prove  absolutely  nothing 


306  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE    TEN    COMMANDMENTS. 

The  Ten  Commandments  were  always  in  the  Christian 
Church  united  with  the  Lord's  Prayer  and  the  Creed  (whether 
longer  or  shorter)  as  a  Christian  Institution.  In  earlier  Catho- 
lic limes  they  were  used  as  a  framework  of  moral  precepts; 
in  Protestant  times  they  were  written  conspicuously  in  the 
churches.  In  either  case  there  are  important  principles  in- 
volved in  the  prominence  thus  given  to  them  which  demand 
consideration.  In  order  to  do  this  we  must  trace  the  facts  to 
their  Jewish  origin. 

I.  Let  us  first  examine  what  were  the  Ten  Commandments 
Outward  in  their  outward  form  and  appearance  when  they 
form.  were  last  seen  by  mortal  eyes  as  the  ark  was  placed 

in  Solomon's  Temple. 

1.  They  were  written  on  two  tables  or  blocks  of  stone  or 
rock.  The  mountains  of  Sinai  are  of  red  and  white  granite. 
Israelite  ar-  On  two  blocks  of  this  granite  rock — the  most  last- 
rangement.  j^g  ji^j  almost  the  oldest  kind  of  rock  that  is  to  be 
found  in  the  world,  as  if  to  remind  us  that  these  Laws  were  to 
be  the  beginning  and  the  end  of  all  things — were  the  Ten 
Commandments,  the  Ten  Words,  written.  They  were  written, 
not  as  we  now  write  them,  only  on  one  side  of  each  of  the  two 
tables,  but  on  both  sides,  so  as  to  give  the  idea  of  absolute 
completeness  and  solidity.  Each  block  of  stone  was  covered 
behind  and  before  with  the  sacred  letters.  Again,  they  were 
not  arranged  as  we  now  arrange  them.  In  the  I\)urth,  for  ex- 
ample, the  reason  for  keeping  holy  the  seventh  day  is,  in 
Exodus,  because  "God  rested  on  the  seventh  day  from  the 
work  of  creation;"  in  Deuteronomy  it  is  to  remind  them  that 
"they  were  once  strangers  in  tiie  land  of  Egypt."  Probably, 
therefore,  these  reasons  were  nut  actually  written  on  the  stone, 
but  were  given  afterwards,  at  two  dillerent  times,  by  way  of 


THE  TEN  COMMANDMENTS.  307 

explanation*,  so  that  the  first  four  Commandments,  as  they 
were  written  on  the  tables,  were  shorter  than  they  are  now. 
Here,  as  everywhere  in  the  Bible,  there  may  be  many  reasons 
for  doing  what  is  right.  It  is  the  doing  of  the  thing,  and  not 
the  particular  occasion  or  reason,  which  makes  it  right.  An- 
other slight  difference  was  that  the  Commandments  probably 
were  divided  into  two  equal  portions,  so  that  the  Fifth  Com- 
mandment, instead  of  being,  as  it  is  with  us,  at  the  top  of  the 
second  table,  was  at  the  bottom  of  the  first.  The  duty  of 
honoring  our  parents  is  so  like  the  duty  of  honoring  God,  that 
it  was  put  amongst  the  same  class  of  duties.  The  duty  to 
both,  as  in  the  Roman  word  "  pietas,"  was  comprised  under  the 
same  category,  and  so  it  is  here  understood  by  Josephus,  Philo, 
and  apparently  by  St.  Paul.* 

These  differences  between  the  original  and  the  present  ar- 
rangement should  be  noted,  because  it  is  interesting  to  have 
before  us  as  nearly  as  we  can  the  exact  likeness  of  those  old 
Commandments,  and  because  it  is  useful  to  remember  how 
even  these  most  sacred  and  ancient  words  have  undergone 
some  change  in  their  outward  form  since  they  were  first  given, 
and  yet  still  are  equally  true  and  equally  venerable.  Religion 
does  not  consist  in  counting  the  syllables  of  the  Bible,  but  in 
doing  what  it  tolls  us. 

2.  When  the  Christian  Church  sprang  out  of  the  Jewish 
Church,  it  did  not  part  with  those  venerable  relics  of  the  ear- 
lier time,  but  they  were  still  used  to  teach  Christian  christian  ar- 
children  their  duty,  as  Jewish  children  had  been  rangements. 
taught  before.  But  there  were  different  arrangements  intro- 
duced in  different  parts  of  the  world.  The  Talmudic  and  the 
modern  Jewish  tradition,  taking  the  Tea  Commandments 
strictly  as  Ten  Words  or  Sentences  (Decalogue),  makes  the 
First  to  be  the  opening  announcement:  "I  am  the  Lord  thy 
God,  which  brought  thee  out  of  the  land  of  E^ypt,"  and  the 
Second  is  made  up  of  what  in  our  arrangement  would  bo  the 
First  and  Second  combined.  The  Sunaritan  division,  pre- 
served in  the  roll  on  Mount  Gerizim,  puts  the  First  and  Second 
together,  as  the  First,  and  then  addsj-  at  the  end  an  Eleventh, 

*  Ewald's  History  of  the  People  of  Israel,  vol.  i.  pp.  5S1-592,  English  trans- 
lation, 
t  See  Professor  Plumptre,  in  Dictionary  of  the  Bible,  vol.  iii.  pp.  1463,  1466. 


308  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

according  to  our  arrangement,  not  found  in  tlie  nebrew  Pen- 
tateuch, which  will  be  noticed  as  we  proceed. 

Wlien  the  Cliristians  adopted  tlie  Commandments  there 
were  two  main  dift'erenccs  of  arranucmcnt.  There  was  the 
division  of  Augustine  and  Bede,  This  follows  the  Jewish 
and  Samaritan  arrangement  of  combining  in  one  the  First 
and  Second  Commandments  of  our  arrangement.  But  inas- 
much as  it  has  no  Eleventh  Commanduient,  like  the  Samari- 
tan, nor  any  "First  Word,"  like  the  Jewish,  it  nudves  out 
the  number  ten  by  dividing  the  last  Commandment  into  two, 
following  here  the  arrangement  of  the  clauses  in  the  Hebrew 
of  Deuteronomy,  and  in  the  LXX.  both  of  Deuteronomy  and 
Exodus,  so  as  to  make  the  Niutli-  Commandment — "Thou 
shalt  not  covet  thy  neighbor's  wife,"  and  the  Tenth,  "Thou 
shalt  not  covet  thy  neighbor's  house,"  etc.  This  is  followed 
by  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  and  the  Lutheran  Church. 
The  division  followed  by  Origen  and  Jerome  is  the  same  as 
that  followed  in  England  and  Scotland.  It  is  common  to  all 
the  Eastern  Churches,  and  all  the  Reformed  Protestant 
Churches.  Here,  again,  the  various  arrangements  give  us  a 
useful  lesson,  as  showing  us  how  the  different  parts  of  our 
doctrine  and  duty  may  not  be  quite  put  together  in  the  same 
wav,  and  yet  be  still  the  same.  And  also  it  may  remind  us 
how  the  very  same  arrangements,  even  in  outvvard  things,  may 
be  made  by  persons  of  the  most  opposite  way  of  thinking;  it 
is  a  warning  not  to  judge  any  one  by  the  mere  outward  sign 
or  badge  that  they  wear.  No  one  could  be  more  unlike  to 
the  Roman  Catholic  Church  than  the  Reformer  Luther,  and 
yet  the  same  peculiar  arrangement  of  the  Ten  Commandments 
was  used  by  him  and  by  them.  No  one  could  be  more  unlike 
to  the  Eastern  Church  than  John  Knox,  or  Calvin,  or  Craniner, 
and  yet  their  arrangement  of  the  Ten  Commandments  is  the 
same. 

11.  What  are  we  to  learn  from  the  place  which  the  Ten 
Conwnandments  occupied  in  the  old  dispensation  ? 

We  learn  what  is  the  true  foundation  of  all  religion.  The 
Ten  Commandmentsaie  simple  rules;  mostoftl.eui 
of  the  Com-  Can  be  understood  by  a  child.  lUit  still  they  are 
maudments.  ^j^g  ^^^y  i,eji,.t,  3,^^  essence  of  the  old  Jewish  re- 
ligion.    They  occupy  a  very  small  part  of  the  Books  of  Moses. 


THE  TEN  COMMANDMENTS.  309 

The  Ten  Commandments,  and  not  the  precepts  about  sacri- 
fices and  passovers  and  boundaries  and  priests,  are  tbe  words 
which  are  said  to  have  been  deUvered  in  thunder  and  light- 
ning at  Mount  Sinai.  These,  and  not  any  ceremonial  ordi- 
nances, were  laid  up  in  the  Most  Holy  Place,  as  the  most 
precious  heritage  of  the  nation.  "  There  was  nothing  in  tlie 
ark  save  the  two  tables  of  stone,  which  Moses  put  there  at 
Horeb." 

Do  your  duty.  This  is  what  they  tell  us.  Do  your  duty  to 
Ood  and  your  duty  to  man.  Whatever  we  may  beHeve  or  feel 
or  think,  the  main  thing  is  that  we  are  to  do  what  is  right, 
not  to  do  what  is  wrong.  Therefore  it  is  that  in  the  Church 
of  England  and  in  the  Reformed  Churches  of  the  Continent 
they  are  still  read  in  the  most  sacred  parts  of  the  service,  as  if 
to  show  us  that,  go  as  far  as  we  can  in  Christian  light  and 
knowledge,  make  as  much  as  we  will  of  Christian  doctrine 
or  of  Christian  worship,  still  we  must  never  lose  hold  of  the 
ancient  everlasting  lines  of  duty. 

III.  But  it  may  be  said,  Were  not  those  Ten  Command- 
m  nts  giv>  n  to  the  Jews  of  old?  Do  they  not  refer  to  the 
land  of  Eo-ypt  and  tLe  land  of  Palestine  ?     We  love  „  •  -^   *  ..v, 

sj^  1  Spirit  of  the 

and  serve  (jrod,  and  love  and  serve  our  brethren,  not  Command- 
because  it   is  written  in  the  Ten   Commandments,  ™'''^'^- 
but  because  it  is  written  on  the  tables  of  our  hearts  by  the 
Divine  Spirit  on  our  spirits  and  consciences.      But  herein  lies 
the  very  meaning  of  their  having  become  a  Christian  Insti- 
tution, 

In  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  Jesus  Christ  took  two  or  three 
of  these  Commandments,  and  explained  them  Himself  to  the 
people.  He  took  the  Sixth  Commandment,  and  showed  that 
for  us  it  is  not  enough  to  remember,  "  Thou  shalt  not  kill," 
but  that  the  Commandment  went  much  deeper,  and  forbade 
all  angry  thoughts  and  words.  This  was  intended  to  apply  to 
all  the  other  Commandments.  It  is  not  in  their  letter,  but  in 
their  spirit,  that  they  concern  us ;  and  this,  no  doubt,  is  what 
is  meant  by  the  prayer  which  in  the  Church  of  England  fol- 
lows after  each  of  them,  and  at  the  end  of  all  of  them, 
"  Incline  our  hearts  to  keep  tliis  Commandment,"  "Write  all 
these  Commandments  in  our  hearts,  we  beseech  Thee." 

1.  Let  us  take  them  one  by  one  in  this  way.     The  First 


310  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

Commandraent  is  no  longer  ours  in  the  letter,  for  it  begins 
.  by  saying;,  "I  atn  the  Lord  thy  God,  who  brought 

Command-  thee  out  of  the  land  of  Egypt."  He  did  not  l»ring 
meut.  ^^g  j,p  Q^^j^  pf  ^|jg  \aw\  of  Egypt,  and  so  completely 

has  tliis  ceased  to  apply  to  us  that  in  the  Coinmanduients  as 
publicly  read,  the  Church  of  England  has  boldly  struck  out 
these  words  altogelhcr  from  the  First  Commandment.  But 
the  spirit  of  the  Commandment  still  remains;  for  we  all  need 
to  be  reminded  that  there  is  but  one  Supreme  Mind,  whose 
praise  and  blame  are,  above  all,  worth  having,  seeking,  or 
deserving. 

2.  The   Second  Commandment  is   no   longer  ours  in  the 
letter,  for  the  sculptures  and  paintings  which  we  see  at  every 

turn  are  what  the  Second  Cominaudment  in  its 
Command-  letter  forbadc,  and  what  the  Jews,  therefore,  never 
ment.  made.     Every  statue,   every   picture,   not  only  in 

every  church,  bnt  in  every  street  or  room,  is  a  breach  of  tlie 
letter  of  the  Second  Commandment.  No  Jew  would  have 
ventured  under  the  Mosaic  dispensation  to  have  them.  When 
Solomon  made  the  golden  lions  and  oxen  in  the  Temple,  it  was 
regarded  by  his  countrymen  as  unlawful.  The  Mahometan 
world  still  observes  the  Second  Commandment  literally.  The 
ungainly  figures  of  the  lions  in  the  court  of  the  Alhambra, 
contrasted  with  the  exquisite  carving  of  arabesques  and  texts 
on  the  walls,  is  an  exception  that  amply  proves  the  rule.  The 
Christian  world  has  entirely  set  it  aside.  But  in  spirit  it  is  still 
important.  It  teaches  us  that  we  must  not  make  God  after  our 
likeness,  or  after  any  likeness  short  of  absolute  moral  perfection. 
Anv  fancies,  any  doctrines,  any  practices  which  lead  us  to  think 
that  God  is  capricious  or  unjust  or  untruthful,  or  that  He  cares 
for  any  outward  thing  compared  with  holiness,  mercy,  and 
goodness — that  is  the  breach  of  the  Second  Commandment  in 
spirit.  It  was  said  truly  of  an  attempt  to  introduce  cere- 
monial forms  of  the  Christian  religion,  "  It  is  so  many  ways  of 
breaking  the  Second  Commandment."  Every  attempt  to 
purify  and  exalt  our  ideas  of  God  is  the  keeping  of  the 
Second  Commandment  in  spirit,  even  although  we  live  amidst 
pictures  and  statues  and  sculptures  of  things  in  heaveu  and 
things  in  earth  and  things  under  the  earth. 

3.  The  Third  Commandment,     llere  the  original  meaning 


THE  TEN  COMMANDMENTS.  31). 

of  the  Commandment  is  more  elevated  and  more  spiritual  than 
that  which  is  commonly  given  to  it.  Many  see  in  ^^  Third 
it  only  a  prohibition  of  profane  swearing  or  false  Command- 
swearing.  It  means  this — but  it  means  much  more.  °^®"^- 
It  means  that  we  are  not  to  appeal  to  God's  name  for  any 
unworthy  purpose.  It  is  a  protest  against  all  those  sins  which 
have  claimed  the  sanction  of  God  or  of  religion.  The  words 
are  literally,  "  Thou  shalt  not  bring  the  Holy  Name  to  any- 
thing that  is  vain,"  that  is,  to  anything  that  is  unholy,  hollow, 
empty.  The  plea  and  pretext  of  God's  name  will  not  avail  as 
an  excuse  for  cruelty  or  hypocrisy  or  untruthfulness  or  unduti- 
fulness.  The  Eternal  will  not  hold  him  guiltless  who  taketh 
His  name  in  vain — that  is,  who  brings  it  to  an  unjust  or 
unrighteous  cause.  All  the  wicked  persecutions  carried  on,  all 
the  wicked  wars  waged,  all  the  pious  frauds  perpetrated  in  the 
name  of  the  Holy  God,  are  breaches  of  the  Third  Command- 
ment, both  in  its  letter  and  in  its  spirit. 

4.  The  Fourth  Commandment.  Here,  as  in  the  Second 
Commandment,  there  is  a  wide  divergence  between  the  letter 
and  the  spirit.  In  its  letter  it  is  obeyed  by  no  ,  _,  , 
Christian  society  whatever,  except  the  Abyssinian  Command- 
Church  in  Africa,  and  the  small  sect  of  the  Seventh-  ™^'i'^- 
Day  Baptists  in  England.  They  still  keep  a  day  of  rest  on  the 
Saturday,  the  seventh  day  of  the  week.  But  in  every  other 
country  the  seventh  day  is  observed  only  by  the  Jews,  and  not 
by  the  Christians.  And  again  only  by  the  Jews,  and  not  by 
Christians  anywhere,  are  the  Mosaic  laws  kept  which  for- 
bade the  lighting  of  a  single  fire,  which  forbade  the  walking 
beyond  a  single  mile,  which  forbade  the  employment  of  a 
single  animal,  which  visited  as  a  capital  ofience  the  slightest 
emoloyment  on  the  seventh  day.  And  again,  the  reasons 
given  in  the  two  versions  of  the  Fourth  Commandment  are 
passed  away.  We  cannot  be  called,  as  in  Deuteronomy,  to  re- 
member that  we  were  strangers  in  the  land  of  Egypt,  for  many 
of  us  were  never  in  Egypt  at  all.  We  cannot  be  called,  as  in 
Exodus,  to  remember  that  the  earth  was  made  in  six  days,  for 
we  most  of  us  know  that  it  took,  not  six  days,  but  millions  of 
ages,  to  bring  the  earth  from  its  void  and  formless  state  to  its 
present  conditioA.  The  letter  of  the  Fourth  Commandment 
has  long  ceased.     The  very  name  of  '•  the  Lord's  Day  "  and 


312  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

of  "  the  first  day  of  the  week  "  is  a  protest  against  it.  The 
very  name  of  Sabbath  is  condemned  by  St.  Paul.*  The  Cat- 
echism of  the  Church  of  England  speaks  of  the  duty  of  serv- 
ing God  all  the  days  of  our  life,  and  not  of  serving  Him  on  one 
day  alone.  But  the  principle  which  lay  at  the  bottom  of  the 
Fourth  Commandment  has  not  passed  away.  Just  as  the  pro- 
hibition of  statues  in  the  Second  Commandment  is  now  best 
carried  out  by  the  avoidance  of  superstiti  )us,  unworthy,  de- 
grading ideas  of  the  nature  of  God,  so  the  principle  of  the 
observance  of  the  Sabbath  in  the  Fourth  Commandment  is 
aimed  against  worldly,  hard,  exacting  ideas  of  the  work  of 
man.  The  principle  of  the  Fourth  Commandment  enjoins  the 
sacred  duty  of  rest — for  there  is  an  element  of  rest  in  the 
Divine  Nature  itself.  It  enjoins  also  the  sacred  duty  of 
kindness  to  our  servants  and  to  the  inferior  animals  ;  "  for  re- 
member that  thou  wast  a  servant  in  the  land  of  Egypt."  How 
this  rest  is  to  be  carried  out,  within  what  limits  it  is  to  be 
confined,  what  amount  of  innocent  recreation  is  to  be  allowed, 
how  far  the  Continental  nations  have  erred  on  the  one  side  or 
the  Scottish  nation  on  the  other  side,  in  their  mode  of  observ- 
ance, whether  the  observance  of  the  English  Sunday  is  exactly 
what  it  ought  to  be,  or  in  what  respects  it  might  be  improved 
— these  are  questions  which  this  is  not  the  place  to  discuss. 
It  is  enough  to  say  that  amidst  all  the  variations  in  the  mode 
of  observing  the  Sunday,  it  is  still  possible,  and  it  is  still  our 
duty,  to  bear  in  mind  the  principle  of  the  ancient  Law.  "  I 
was  in  the  Spirit  on  the  Lord's  Day  : "  that  is  what  we  should 
all  strive  to  attain — to  be  raised  at  least  for  one  day  in  the 
week  above  the  grinding  toil  of  our  daily  work — above  the 
debasing  influence  of  frivolous  amusements — above  the  jang- 
ling of  business  and  controversy — raised  into  the  high  and 
holv  atmosphere  breathed  by  pure  and  peaceful  lives,  bright 
and  beautiful  thoughts,  elevating  and  invigorating  worship. 
Although  the  day  has  been  changed  from  the  seventh  day  to 
the  first  day  everywhere — nay,  even  had  it  been  further  changed 
as  Calvin  intended,  from  Sunday  to  Thursday — even  had  it  yet 
been  further  changed,  as  Tyndale,  the  foremost  of  the  English 
Reformers,  proposed,  from  the  seventh  day  to  the  tenth  day — 

♦  Col.  u.  16. 


THE  TEN  COMMANDMENTS.  313 

yet  still  there  would  survive  the  solemn  obligation  founded, 
not  on  the  Law  of  Moses,  but  on  the  Law  of  God  in  Nature, 
the  obligation  of  rest  and  of  worship  as  long  as  human  nature 
remains  what  it  is,  as  long  as  the  things  which  are  temporal 
are  seen,  and  the  things  which  are  eternal  are  unseen.* 

6.  The  Fifth  Commandment.     Here,  again,  the  letter  has 
ceased  to  have  any  meaning  for  us.     "  That  thy  days  may  be 
long  in  the  land  which  the  Lord  thy  God  giveth  ^^^  ^.^^j^ 
thee."     W .  have  no  claim  on  the  inheritance  of  the  Command- 
land  of  Canaan.     No  amount  of  filial  reverence  will  ™®°*' 
secure  lor  us  the  possession  of  the  goodly  heights  of  Lebanon, 
or  the  forests  of  Gilead,  or  the  rushing  waters  of  Jordan.     But 
the  ordinance  of  affection  and  honor  to  parents  has  not  dimin- 
ished, but  grown,  with  the  years  which  have  passed  since  the 
command  war.  first  issued.     The  love  of  son  to  mother,  the 
honor  of  children  to  parents,  is  far  stronger  now  than  in  the 
days  of  .^oses. 

It  is  often  discussed  in  these  days  whether  this  or  that  prin- 
ciple of  religion  is  natural  or  supernatural.  How  often  is  this 
distinction  entirely  without  meaning !  The  Fifth  Commandment 
— sacred  to  the  dearest,  deepest,  purest,  noblest  aspirations  of 
the  heart — is  natural  because  it  is  supernatural,  is  supernatural 
because  it  is  natural.  It  is  truly  regarded  as  the  symbol,  as  the 
sanction,  of  the  whole  framework  of  civil  and  religious  society. 
Our  obedience  to  law,  our  love  of  country,  is  not  a  bond  of 
mere  expediency  or  accident.  It  is  not  a  worldly,  unspiritual 
ordinance,  to  be  rejected  because  it  crosses  some  religious 
fancies  or  interferes  with  some  theological  allegory.  It  is  bind- 
ing on  the  Christian  conscience,  because  it  is  part  of  the  natural 
religion  of  the  human  race  and  of  the  best  instincts  of  Christen- 
dom, 

6.  The  Sixth  Commandment.     The  crime  of  murder  is  what 
it  chiefly  condemns,  and  no  sentimental  feelings  of  modern  times 
have  ever  been  able  to  bring  the  murderer  down 
from  that  bad  preeminence  as  the  worst  and  most  Command- 
appalling  of  human  offenders.    It  is  the  consummation  ^^'^t- 
of  selfishness.     It  is  the  disregard  of  the  most  precious  of  God's 
earthly  gifts — the  gift  of   life.     But  the  scope  of  the  com- 

*  See  Prof.  Tyndall's  admirable  Address  on  the  Sabbath  at  Glasgow. 
14 


314  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

raandment  extends  mucli  further.  In  the  Christian  sense  he  is 
a  breaker  of  the  Sixth  Commandment  who  promotes  quarrels 
and  jealousies  in  families,  who  indulges  in  fierce,  contemptuous 
words,  who  fans  the  passions  of  class  against  class,  of  church 
against  church,  of  nation  against  nation.  In  the  horrors  of 
war  it  is  not  the  innocent  soldier  killing  his  adversary  in  battle, 
but  the  partisans  on  whatever  side,  the  ambitious  in  whatever 
nation,  the  reckless  journalists  and  declaimersof  whatever  opin- 
ions, by  which  angry  passions  are  fostered,  that  are  the  true 
responsible  authors  of  the  horrors  which  follow  in  the  train  of 
armies  and  in  the  fields  of  carnage.  In  the  violence  of  civil 
and  intestine  discord,  it  is  not  only  human  life  that  is  at  stake, 
but  that  which  makes  human  life  precious.  "  As  well  kill  a  good 
man  as  a  good  book,"  was  the  saying  of  Milton,  and  so  we 
may  add,  in  thinking  of  those  who  care  neither  to  preserve  nor 
to  improve  the  inheritance  which  God  has  given  us,  "  As  well 
kill  a  good  man  as  a  good  institution." 

7.  The  Seventh  Commandment.     Of  this  it  is  enough  to  say 
that  here  also  we  know  well  in  our  consciences  that  it  is  not 

,  onXy  the  shameless  villain  who  invades  the  sanctity 
Command-  of  another's  home  and  happiness  that  falls  under 
ment.  ^^  condemnation  of  that  dreadful  word  which  the 

Seventh  Commandment  uses.  It  is  the  rer.der  and  writer  of 
filthy  books;  it  is  the  young  man  or  the  young  woman  who 
allows  his  or  her  purity  and  dignity  to  be  soiled  and  stained 
by  loose  talk  and  loose  company.  If  the  sacredness  of  the 
marriage  bond  be  the  glory  of  our  English  homes,  no  eccen- 
tricities of  genius,  no  exceptional  misfortunes — however  much 
we  may  excuse  or  pity  those  who  have  gone  astray — can 
justify  us  in  making  light  of  that  which,  disregarded  in  one 
case,  is  endangered  in  all,  which,  if  lost  in  a  few  cases,  is  the 
ruin  of  hundreds.  It  is  not  the  loss  of  Christianity,  but  of  civil- 
ization ;  not  the  advance  to  freedom,  but  the  relapse  into  bar- 
barism. 

8.  The   Eighth  Commandment.      "Thou  shalt  not  steal." 
That  lowest,  meanest  crime  of  the  thief  and  the  robber  is  not 

all  that  the  Eighth  Commandment  condemns.  It  is 
Command-  the  taking  of  money  which  is  not  our  due,  and  which 
ment.  y,^  ^^^  forbidden  to  receive;  it  is  the  squandering 

of  money  wliich  is  not  our  own,  on  the  race-course  or  at  the  gam- 


TEE  TEN  COMMANDMENTS.  315 

bling  table ;  it  is  the  taking  advantage  of  a  fla\y  or  an  accident 
in  a  will  which  gives  us  property  which  was  not  intended  for  us, 
and  to  which  others  have  a  better  claim  than  we.  He  is  the  true 
observer  of  the  Eighth  Commandment  not  only  who  keeps 
his  hands  from  picking  and  stealing,  but  he  who  renders  just 
restitution,  he  who,  like  the  great  Indian  soldier,  Outram,  the 
Bayard  of  modern  times,  would  not  claim  any  advantage  from 
a  war  which  he  had  victoriously  conducted,  because  he  thought 
the  war  itself  was  wrong ;  he  who  is  scrupulously  honest,  even 
to  the  last  farthing  of  his  accounts,  with  master  or  servant, 
with  employer  or  employed ;  he  who  respects  the  rights  of 
others,  not  only  of  the  rich  against  the  poor,  not  only  of  the 
poor  against  the  rich,  but  of  all  classes  against  each  other. 
These,  and  these  only,  are  the  Christian  keepers  of  the  Eighth 
Commandment. 

9.  The  Ninth  Commandment.  "  Thou  shalt  not  bear  false 
witness."  False  witness,  deliberate  perjury,  is  the  crown  and 
consummation  of  the  liar's  progress.     But  what  a 

world  of  iniquity  is  covered  by  that  one  word,  Lie.  command- 
Careless,  damaging  statements,  thrown  hither  and  ™^°*- 
thither  in  conversation  ;  reckless  exaggeration  and  romancing, 
only  to  make  stories  more  pungent;  hasty  records  of  characte*r, 
left  to  be  published  after  we  are  dead;  heedless  disregard 
of  the  supreme  duty  and  value  of  truth  in  all  things,— these 
are  what  we  should  bear  in  mind  when  we  are  told  that  we 
are  not  to  bear  false  witness  against  our  neighbor.  A  lady 
who  had  been  in  the  habit  of  spreading  slanderous  reports 
once  confessed  her  fault  to  St.  Philip  Neri,  and  asked  how 
she  should  cure  "it.  He  said,  "Go  to  the  nearest  market- 
place, buy  a  chicken  just  killed,  pluck  its  feathers  all  the  way 
as  you  return,  and  come  back  to  me."  She  was  much  sur- 
prised, and  when  she  saw  her  adviser  again,  he  said,  "Now 
go  back,  and  bring  me  back  all  the  feathers  you  have  scat- 
tered." "  But  that  is  impossible,"  she  said ;  "  I  cast  away 
the  feathers  carelessly ;  the  wind  carried  them  away.  How 
can  I  recover  them?"  "That,"  he  said,  "is  exactly  like 
your  words  of  slander.  They  have  been  carried  about  in 
every  direction  ;  you  cannot  recall  them.  Go,  and  slander  no 
more." 

10.  The  Tenth  Commandment.     The  form   of  the  Com- 


316  CHRISTIAN  mSTITTITIONS. 

mandment  speats  only  of  the  possessions  of  a  rude  and  pas- 
toral people, — the  wife  of  a  neighboring  chief,  the  male  and 
female  slaves,  the  Syrian  ox,  the  Egyptian  ass.  But  the 
The  Tenth  Principle  strikes  at  the  very  highest  heights  of 
Command-  civilization  and  at  the  very  innermost  secrets  of 
ment.  ^^^^  heart.     Greed,    selfishness,  ambition,  egotism, 

self-importance,  money-getting,  rash  speculation,  desire  of  the 
poor  to  pull  down  the  rich,  desire  of  the  rich  to  exact  more 
than  their  due  from  the  poor,  eagerness  to  destroy  the  most 
aseful  and  sacred  institutions  in  order  to  gratify  a  social  re- 
venge, or  to  gain  a  lost  place,  or  to  ma^e  a  figure  in  the 
world, — these  are  amongst  the  wide-reaching  evils  which  are 
included  in  that  ancient  but  most  expressive  word  "  covetous- 
ness."  "I  had  not  known  sin,"  says  the  Apostle  Paul,  "but 
for  the  law  which  says.  Thou  shall  not  covety  So  we  may 
all  say.  No  one  can  know  the  exceeding  sinfulness  of  sin 
who  does  not  know  the  guilt  of  selfishness  ;  no  one  can  know 
the  exceeding  beauty  of  holiness  who  has  not  seen  or  felt  the 
glory  of  unselfishness. 

IV.  These  are  tl  j  Ten  Commandments — the  summary  of  the 
morality  of  Judaism,  the  basis  of  the  morality  of  Christian 
_,    _  Churches.     We  have  heard  it  said  of  such  and  such 

T116  Two 

great  Com-  an  oue  with  Open,  genuine  countenance,  that  he 
maudments.  ^^^-^^^  ^s  if  he  had  the  Ten  Commandments  writ- 
ten on  his  face.  It  was  remarked  by  an  honest,  pious  Roman 
Catholic  of  the  last  generation,  on  whom  a  devout  but  feeble 
enthusiast  was  pressing  the  use  of  this  and  that  small  practice 
of  devotion,  "  My  devotions  are  much  better  than  those.  They 
are  the  devotions  of  the  Ten  Commandments  of  God." 

In  the  Reformed  American  Church  and  in  the  Reformed 
Churches  of  France,  and  intended  by  the  last  Reformers  of  the 
English  Liturgy  in  1689,  though  they  failed  to  carry  the  point, 
after  the  Ten  Commandments  are  read  in  church  comes  this 
memorable  addition,  which  we  ought  all  to  sujiply  in  memory, 
even  although  it  is  not  publicly  used:  "Hear  also  what  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ  saith."  This  is  what  is  taken  as  the  ground 
of  the  explanation  of  the  Commandments  in  all  Christian  Cate- 
chisms of  our  duty  to  God.  Everything  in  what  we  call  the 
first  table  is  an  enlargement  of  that  one  single  command, 
"  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God,"     Everything  in  the  sec- 


TEE  TEN'  COMMANDMENTS.  317 

ond  table  of  our  duty  to  our  neiglibor  is  an  enlargement  of  the 
command,  "Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself."  The 
two  together  are  the  whole  of  religion.  Each  of  itself  calls  our 
attention  to  what  is  the  first  and  chief  duty  of  each  of  the  two 
tables.  God,  the  Supreme  Goodness,  and  the  Supreme  Truth, 
is  to  be  served  with  no  half  service ;  it  must  be  a  service  that 
goes  through  our  whole  lives.  We  must  place  Him  above 
everything  else.  He  is  all  in  all  to  us.  Truth,  justice,  purity 
are  in  Him  made  the  supreme  object  of  our  devotion  and  affec- 
tion. "  Let  no  man,"  says  Lord  Bacon,  "  out  of  weak  conceit 
of  authority  or  ill-applied  moderation,  think  or  imagine  that  a 
man  can  search  too  far  or  be  too  well  supplied  in  the  Book  of 
God's  Word  or  the  Book  of  God's  Works."  Man  is  to  be 
served  also  with  a  love  like  that  which  we  give  to  ourselves. 
Selfishness  is  here  made  the  root  of  all  evil ;  unselfishness  the 
root  of  all  goodness.  Toleration  of  every  difference  of  race  or 
creed  is  summed  up  in  the  expression  "  thy  neighbor." 

It  was  a  saying  of  Abraham  Lincoln,  "  When  any  church 
will  inscribe  over  its  altar  as  its  sole  qualification  for  member- 
ship the  Saviour's  condensed  statement  of  the  substance  of 
both  Law  and  Gospel  in  those  two  great  Commandments,  that 
church  will  I  join  with  all  my  heart  and  with  all  my  soul." 
There  may  be  an  exaggeration  in  the  expression,  but  the  thing 
intended  is  true.  If  any  church  existed  which  in  reality  and  in 
spirit  put  forth  those  two  Commandments  as  the  sum  and  sub- 
stance of  its  belief,  as  that  to  which  all  else  tended,  and  for  the 
sake  of  which  all  was  done,  it  would  indeed  take  the  first  place 
amongst  the  churches  of  the  world,  because  it  would  be  the 
Church  that  most  fully  had  expressed  the  mind  and  intention 
of  the  Founder  of  Christendom.* 

V.  There  was  an  addition  which  the  English  divines  of  the 
time  of  William  III.  wished  to  make  to  the  recital  of  the  Ten 
Commandments  in  church.  It  was  baffled  by  the  The  Eight 
obstinate  prejudice  of  the  inferior  clergy.  But  its  Beatitudes, 
intention  was  singularly  fine.  It  was  that,  on  the  three 
great  festivals,  instead  of  the  Ten  Commandments  of  Mount 
Sinai  should  be  read  the  Eight  Beatitudes  of  the  Mountain 

*  The  subject  is  treated  at  length  in  "The  Two  Great  Commandments,"  in 
Addresses  at  St.  Andreics,  pp.  155-187. 


318  CEBISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

of  Galilee,  in  order  to  remind  us  tliat  beyond  and  above 
the  Law  of  Duty,  there  is  the  happiness  of  that  inward  spirit 
which  is  at  once  the  spring  and  the  result  of  all  duty — the 
happiness,  the  blessedness  which  belongs  to  the  humble,  the 
sincere,  the  unselfish,  the  eager  aspirant  after  goodness,  the 
generous,  the  pure,  the  courageous.  That  happiness  is  the 
highest  end  and  aim  of  all  rehgion. 

VI.  There  is  one  addition  yet  to  be  made,  which  has  never 
been  suggested  by  authority. 

We  sometimes  hear  in  conversation  of  an  Eleventh  Com- 
mandment invented  by  the  world,  in  cynical  con- 
enth  Com-  tempt  of  the  old  commandments,  or  in  pursuit  of 
mandment  g^^^^  selfish  or  wicked  end.  Of  such  an  Eleventh 
Commandment,  whether  in  jest  or  earnest,  we  need  not  here 
speak.  It  is  enough  to  be  reminded  of  it,  and  pass  it  by. 
But  there  is  also  what  may  be  called  the  Eleventh  Command- 
ment of  churches  and  sects.  In  the  oldest  and  most  venerable 
of  all  ecclesiastical  divisions — the  ancient  Samaritan  communi- 
ty, who  have  for  centuries,  without  increase  or  diminution, 
gathered  round  Mount  Gerizim  as  the  only  place  where  men 
ought  to  worship — there  is,  as  noticed  above,  to  be  read  upon 
the  aged  parchment-scroll  of  the  Pentateuch  this  command- 
ment, added  to  the  other  Ten,  "  Thou  shalt  build  an  altar  on 
Mount  Gerizim,  and  there  only  shalt  thou  worship."*  Faith- 
fully have  they  followed  that  command;  excommunicating, 
and  excommunicated  by,  all  other  rehgious  societies,  they  cling 
to  that  Eleventh  Commandment  as  equal,  if  not  superior,  to 
of  the  'lU  the  rest.     This  is  the  true  likeness  of  what  all 

Samaritans;  churches  and  sccts,  unless  purified  by  a  higher  spirit, 
are  tempted  to  add.  "Thou  shalt  do  something  for  this  par- 
ticular community,  which  none  else  may  share.  Thou  shalt 
do  this  over  and  above,  and  more  than  thy  plain  duties  to  God 
and  man.  Thou  shalt  build  thine  altar  on  Mount  Gerizim,  for 
here  alone  our  fathers  have  said  that  God  is  to  be  worshipped. 
Thou  shalt  maintain  the  exclusive  sacredness  of  this  or  that 

*  The  Eleventh  (or  in  the  Samaritan  division,  the  Tenth)  Commandment  of 
the  Samaritans  is  here  somewhat  aljridKed.  It  consists  of  Deut.  xxvii.  2-7,  xi. 
30,  interpolated  in  Exod.  xx.,  with  the  alteration  of  Ebal  into  Gerizim.  I  ven- 
ture to  quote  the  substance  of  two  passages  from  Lectures  on  the  Church  of 
ScotUtnd.  pp.  3,  4,  G-8.  There  is  a  striking  story  of  Archbishop  Usher  in  con- 
nection with  it  (see  Ibid.  pp.  4-CJ. 


THE  TEN  COMMANDMENTS.  319 

place,  this  or  that  word,  this  or  that  doctrine,  this  or  that  party, 
this  or  that  institution,  this  or  that  mode  of  doing  good.     Thou 
shalt  worsliip  God  thus  and  thus  only."      This  is  the  Eleventh 
Commandment  according  to  sects  and  parties  and 
partisans.     For  this  we  are  often  told  to  contend  more  ' 

than  for  all  the  other  Ten  together.  For  an  Eleventh  Command- 
ment like  to  this,  half  the  energies  of  Christendom  have  been 
spent,  and  spent  in  vain.  For  some  command  like  this  men  have 
fought  and  struggled  and  shed  their  own  blood  and  the  blood 
of  others,  as  though  it  were  a  command  engraven  on  the  tables 
of  the  everlasting  law;  and  yet,  again  and  again  and  again, 
it  has  been  found  in  after  ages  that  such  a  command  was  an 
addition  as  venerable,  perhaps,  and  as  full  of  interest,  but  as 
superfluous,  as  misleading,  as  disproportionate,  as  that  Eleventh 
Samaritan  commandment, — "Thou  shalt  build  an  altar  on 
Mount  Gerizim,  and  there  only  shalt  thou  worship." 

But  there  is  a  divine  Eleventh  Commandment, — "  A  new 
commandment  I  give  unto   you,  that  ye  love  one  of  the  Gos- 
another;  As  I  have  loved  you,  that  ye  also  should  p^^- 
love  one  another." 

It  is  contained  in  the  parting  discourse  of  St.  John's  Gospel, 
and  it  is  introduced  there  as  a  surprise  to  the  Apostles. 
"  What  ?  Are  not  the  Ten  Commandments  enough  ?  Must 
we  always  be  pressing  forward  to  something  new  ?  What  is 
this  that  he  saith,  '  A  new  commandment  ? '  We  cannot  tell 
what  He  saith."  Nevertheless  it  corresponds  to  a  genuine  want 
of  the  human  heart. 

Beyond  the  Ten  Commandments  there  is  yet  a  craving  for 
something  even  beyond  duty,  even  beyond  reverence.  There 
is  a  need  which  can  only  be  satisfied  by  a  new,  by  an  Eleventh 
Commandment,  which  shall  be  at  once  old  and  new — which 
shall  open  a  new  field  of  thought  and  exertion  for  each  genera- 
tion of  men  ;  which  shall  give  a  fresh,  undying  impulse  to  its 
older  sisters — the  youngest  child  (so  to  speak)  of  the  patri- 
archal family.  The  true  new  commandment  which  Jesus 
Christ  gave  was,  in  its  very  form  and  fashion,  peculiarly  charac- 
teristic of  the  Christian  Religion. 

The  novelty  of  the  commandment  lay  in  two  points.  First, 
it  was  new,  because  of  the  paramount,  predominant  place 
which  it  gave  to  the  force  of  the  human  affections,  the  enthu- 


320  CERISTIAN  INSTITUTION'S. 

siasm  for  the  good  of  others,  which  was — instead  of  cere- 
monial, or  mere  obedience,  or  correctness  of  belief — henceforth 
to  become  the  appointed  channel  of  religious  fervor.  And, 
secondly,  it  was  new,  because  it  was  founded  on  the  appear- 
ance of  a  new  character,  a  new  manifestation  of  the  character 
of  Man,  a  new  manifestation  of  the  character  of  God.  Even 
if  the  Four  Gospels  had  been  lost,  we  should  see,  from  the 
urgency  with  which  the  Apostles  press  this  new  grace  of  Love 
or  Charity  upon  us,  that  some  diviner  vision  of  excellence  had 
crossed  their  minds.  The  very  word  which  they  used  to 
express  it  was  new,  for  the  thing  was  new,  the  example  was 
new,  and  the  consequences  therefore  were  new  also. 

It  may  be  said  that  the  solid  blocks  or  tables  on  which  the 
Ten  Commandments  were  written  were  of  the  granite  rock  of 
Sinai,  as  if  to  teach  us  that  all  the  great  laws  of  duty  to  God 
and  duty  to  man  were  like  that  oldest  primeval  foundation  of 
the  world — more  solid,  more  enduring  than  all  the  other  strata ; 
cutting  across  all  the  secondary  and  artificial  distinctions  of 
mankind ;  heaving  itself  up,  now  here,  now  there ;  throwing 
up  here  the  fantastic  crag,  the  towering  peak,  there  the  long 
range  which  unites  or  divides  the  races  of  mankind.  That  is 
the  universal,  everlasting  character  of  Duty.  But  as  that 
granite  rock  itself  has  been  fused  and  wrought  together  by  a 
central  fire,  without  which  it  could  not  have  existed  at  all,  so 
also  the  Christian  law  of  Duty,  in  order  to  perform  fully  its 
work  in  the  world,  must  have  been  warmed  at  the  heart  and 
fed  at  the  source  by  a  central  fire  of  its  own — and  that  central 
fire  is  Love — the  gracious,  kindly,  generous,  admiring,  tender 
movements  of  the  human  affections ;  and  that  central  fire  itself 
is  kept  alive  by  the  consciousness  that  there  has  been  in  the 
world  a  Love  beyond  all  human  love,  a  devouring  fire  of 
Divine  enthusiasm  on  behalf  of  our  race,  which  is  the  Love  of 
Christ.  It  is  not  contrary  to  the  Ten  Commandments.  It  is 
not  outside  of  them,  it  is  within  them ;  it  is  at  their  core;  it 
is  wrapped  up  in  them,  as  the  particles  of  the  central  heat  of 
the  globe  were  encased  within  the  granite  tables  in  the  Ark  of 
the  Temple,  "  What  was  it  that  made  him  undertake  the 
support  of  the  Abolition  of  the  Slave-trade?"  was  asked  of  an 
eminent  statesman  respecting  the  conduct  of  another.  "  It 
was  his  love  of  the  human  race." 


TEE  TEN  COMMANDMENTS.  321 

This  was  what  the  Apostle  Paul  meant  by  saying,  "  Love  is 
the  fulfilling  of  the  Law."  This  is  what  St.  Peter  meant  by 
saying,  "Above  all  things,  have  fervent,"  enthusiastic  "Love." 
This  is  what  St.  John  meant  when,  in  his  extreme  old  age,  he 
was  carried  into  the  market-place  of  Ephesus,  and,  according 
to  the  ancient  tradition,  repeated  over  and  over  again  to  his 
disciples  the  words  which  he  had  heard  from  his  Master, 
"  Little  children,  love  one  another."  They  were  vexed  by 
hearing  this  commandment,  this  Eleventh  Commandment, 
repeated  so  often.  They  asked  for  something  more  precise, 
more  definite,  more  dogmatic ;  but  the  aged  Apostle,  we  are 
told,  had  but  one  answer :  "  This  is  the  sum  and  substance  of 
the  Gospel ;  if  you  do  this,  I  have  nothing  else  to  teach  you." 
He  did  not  mean  that  ceremonies,  doctrines,  ordinances  were 
of  no  importance  ;  but  that  they  were  altogether  of  secondary 
importance.  He  meant  that  they  were  on  the  outside  of 
religion,  whereas  this  commandment  belonged  to  its  inner- 
most substance ;  that,  if  this  commandment  were  carried  out, 
all  that  was  good  in  all  the  rest  would  follow ;  that,  if  this 
commandment  were  neglected,  all  that  was  good  in  all  the  rest 
would  fade  away,  and  all  that  was  evil  and  one-sided  and 
exaggerated  would  prevail  and  pervert  even  the  good.  He 
meant  and  his  Master  meant  that,  as  the  ages  rolled  on,  other 
truths  may  be  folded  up  and  laid  aside ;  but  that  this  would 
always  need  to  be  enforced  and  developed. 

Love  one  another  in  spite  of  differences,  in  spite  of  faults,  in 
spite  of  the  excesses  of  one  or  the  defects  of  another.  Love 
one  another,  and  make  the  best  of  one  another,  as  He  loved  us, 
who,  for  the  sake  of  saving  what  was  good  in  the  human  soul, 
forgot,  forgave,  put  out  of  sight  what  was  bad — who  saw  and 
loved  what  was  good  even  in  the  publican  Zaccheus,  even  in 
the  peintent  Magdalen,  even  in  the  expiring  malefactor,  even 
in  the  heretical  Samaritan,  even  in  the  Pharisee  Nicodemus, 
even  in  the  heathen  soldier,  even  in  the  outcast  Canaanite. 
Make  the  most  of  what  there  is  good  in  institutions,  in  opinions, 
in  communities,  in  individuals.  It  is  very  easy  to  do  the 
reverse,  to  make  the  worst  of  what  there  is  of  evil,  absurd,  and 
erroneous.  By  so  doing  we  shall  have  no  difficulty  in  making 
estrangements  more  wide,  and  hatreds  and  strifes  more  abun- 
dant, and  errors  more  extreme.      It  is  very  easy  to  fix  our 

14* 


322  CHRISTIAN  INSTITUTIONS. 

attention  only  on  the  weak  points  of  those  around  us,  to 
magnify  them,  to  irritate  them  to,  aggravate  them;  and  by 
so  doing  we  can  make  the  burden  of  Ufe  unendurable,  and  can 
destroy  our  own  and  others'  happiness  and  usefulness  wherever 
we  go.  But  this  is  not  the  new  love  wherewith  we  are  to  love 
one  another.  That  love  is  universal,  because  in  its  spirit  we 
overcome  evil  simply  by  doing  good.  We  drive  out  error 
simply  by  telling  the  truth.  We  strive  to  look  on  both  sides 
of  the  shield  of  truth.  We  strive  to  speak  the  truth  in  love, 
that  is,  without  exaggeration  or  misrepresentation  ;  concealing 
nothing,  compromising  nothing,  but  with  the  effort  to  under- 
stand each  other,  to  discover  the  truth  which  lies  at  the  bottom 
of  the  error ;  with  the  determination  cordially  to  love  whatever 
is  lovable  even  in  those  in  whom  we  cordially  detest  whatever 
is  detestable.  And,  in  proportion  as  we  endeavor  to  do  this, 
there  may  be  a  hope  that  men  will  see  that  there  are,  after  all, 
some  true  disciples  of  Christ  left  in  the  world,  "  because  they 
have  love  one  to  another." 


THB  END. 


ADDENDA. 


To  p.  47. 

Deerhurst  Church  was  arranged  in  this  manner  in  1603,  and  it 
continued  with  its  table  east  and  west  till  1846.  It  is  now  arranged 
north  and  south,  but  otherwise  is  in  the  same  position. 

To  p.  70 

"The  requirement  of  the  Sacrament  has,  fortunately,  never  been 
to  any  great  extent  one  of  the  requirements  of  the  social  code,  and  a 
rite  which  of  all  Christian  institutes  is  the  most  admirable  in  its 
touching  solemnity  has  for  the  most  part  been  left  to  sincere  and 
earnest  believers.  Something  of  the  fervor,  something  of  the  deep 
sincerity  of  the  early  Christians,  may  even  now  be  seen  around  the 
sacred  table,  and  prayers  instinct  with  the  deepest  and  most  solemn 
emotion  may  be  employed  without  appearing  almost  blasphemous 
by  their  contrast  with  the  tone  and  the  demeanor  of  the  worship- 
pers."— (From  some  admirable  remarks  of  Mr.  Lecky  on.  the  Test 
Act.     History  of  the  Eighteenth  Century,  vol.  i.  p.  255.) 

To  p.  144. 

Extract  from  Personal  Recollections  of  Sir  Gilbert  Scott,  p.  28. — 
"In  the  earliest  period  to  which  his  memory  extended,  the  clergy 
habitually  wore  their  cassock,  gown,  and  shovel  hat,  and  when  this 
custom  went  out  a  sort  of  interregnum  ensued,  during  which  all 
distinction  of  dress  was  abandoned,  and  clerics  followed  lay  fash- 
ions. This  is  the  period  which  Jane  Austen's  novels  illustrate. 
Her  clergymen  are  singularly  free  from  any  of  the  ecclesiastical 
character.  Later  on  the  clergy  adopted  the  suit  of  black,  and  the 
white  necktie,  which  had  all  along  been  the  dress  of  professional 
men,  lawyers,  doctors,  architects,  and  even  surveyors:  of  men  in 
short  whose  business  was  to  advise." 

To  p.  263. 

In  the  version  of  the  Lord's  Prayer  in  the  best  authorities  of  Luke 
xi.  2,  3,  4,  "  Which  art  in  heaven,"  "  Thy  will  be  done  in  earth  as 
it  is  in  heaven,"  and  "Deliver  us  from  the  evil,"  are  omitted. 


INDEX. 


Absolution,  use  of,  in  early  times,  118, 

128. 
Adiaphorism,  152. 
Altar,  47,  ItiS,  185. 
Ambones,  importance  of,  50. 
Art,  early  Christian,  230. 
Athanaric,  funeral  of,  277. 
Athanasius,  13,  270,  272. 
Augustine,  16. 

Baptism,  original,  1,  3. 

—  Immersion,  17. 

—  Infants',  14,  19. 

—  Opinion  of  salvation  by,  12. 
Basilica,  103. 

—  its  form,  1G3. 

Binding  and  loosing,  proper  meaning 
of,  118,  121. 

Bishops  in  relation  to  presbyters,  171. 

Blood  of  Christ,  meaning  of,  103,  111. 

Body  of  Christ,  meaning  of,  iu  the  Gos- 
pels, 93,  100. 

in  the  Epistles,  100, 103. 

Canons  of  1604, 155. 
Catacombs,  224. 

—  their  Jewish  character,  226. 

—  pictures,  227. 

—  epitaphs.  238. 

Chalcedon,  Council  of,  293,  295-298. 

—  reverses  the  decree  of  Ephesus,  302. 
Chancellor,  1G5. 

Clergy,  171. 

—  origin  of,  178. 
Collect,  origin  of,  40. 
Confession,  use  of,  in  early  times,  129. 
Confirmation,  16. 
Constantinople,  Creed  of,  300. 

—  contents,  origin  of,  S02-305. 
Consubstaiitiation,  87. 
Cope,  140. 

Creed,  Apostles',  243, 

—  Nicene,  243,"269. 
Crosier,  187. 

Cup,  withholding  of,  R3. 
Cyril  of  Alexandria,  294,  299. 

Deacons,  origin  of,  173. 
Doxology  in  Lord's  Praj'er,  263. 
Dress,  ecclesiastical,  151. 


Elements,  .30. 

Eleventh  Ci>mmandment,  318.' 
Elizabeth  Lntheranism,  89. 
Ephesus,  Council  of,  292,  294,  295. 

—  decree  of,  299,  3(X). 
Episcopacy,  origin  of,  177. 
Eucharist,  antiquity  of,  27. 

—  permanence,  34. 
Euphemia,  Saint,  293. 
Extempore  prayer,  53. 

Father,  meaning  of,  245. 
Fish,  iu  the  Sacrament,  45. 

GooDENOUGH,  Commodorc,  35. 
Gorham  controversy,  9. 
Gregory  Nazianzen,  270. 

Heine,  poem  on  the  Trinity,  257. 
Holy  Ghost,  meaning  of,  251. 
Homily,  meaning  of,  50. 
Hypostasis,  255. 

Jerome,  273. 

Jewish  High  Priest,  his  dress,  147. 

Jube,  origin  of,  49. 

Kiss  of  peace,  importance  of,  51. 

Lamartine,  his  speech,  150. 
Litany,  its  origin,  213. 

—  its  English  translation,  215. 
Liturgy,  ancient  form  of. 52. 
Liturgj'  of  the  First  Prayer  Book  of 

Edward  VL,  68. 
Lord's  Prayer,  207. 

—  language  of,  268. 

its  importance,  56,  57,  260. 

brevity,  conclusion  of,  264. 

Magic,  prevalence  of,  76,  77. 
Mass.  meaning  of,  40. 
Maximus,  273. 

Newman.  Cardinal,  description  of  the 

Council  of  Ephe.sus,  294. 
Nicoea,  Creed  of,  guarded  by  Ephesian 

decree,  299. 
altered  by  Chalcedonian  decree, 

301,  302. 


326 


INDEX. 


Offering  of  bread  and  wine,  54. 
Ordination,  words  used  in,  127. 

—  various  forms  of,  175. 
Ornaments'  Rubric,  152,  153. 

Parabolical  language,  misuse  of,  75. 
Passover,  30. 
Pearson,  Bishop,  35. 
Pontifex  Maximus,  190. 
Pope,  tlie,  compared  with   the  Em- 
peror and  tlie  Sultan,  182,  183. 

—  Italian  prince,  192. 

—  dress  of,  1S4. 
Pope,  how  created,  196. 

—  his  oracidar  power,  198. 

—  mixed  character,  203. 

—  name  of,  194. 

—  postures  of,  185,  186,  20C,  211,  212. 

—  service  of,  187. 
Popes,  lay,  195-198. 
Position  of  ministers,  47. 

Real  presence,  71. 

—  moral  and  spiritual,  72,  74,  79. 
Red  Hag,  150. 

Redemption,  doctrine  of,  222. 
Regeneration,  228. 

Sacrifice,  offering  of  fruits,  54. 

—  Pagan  and  Jewiah,  00. 


Scriptures,  reading  of.  49. 

Shepherd,  the  Good,  231. 

Son,  meaning  of,  246. 

Spinoza,  250. 

Si)irit,  meaning  of,  251. 

Sponsors,  24. 

Standing  posture,  47. 

Substitution  of  Christian  ideas,  61,  69. 

Table  or  altar,  earliest  form,  47. 
Temple,  161. 

Ten  Commandments,  306. 
Theodoret,  conduct  at  Council  of  Chal- 

cedon,  295,  290. 
Theodosius,  275. 

—  moderation  of,  297. 
Transubstantiation,  81,  82. 

Union  of  Lutherans  and  Zwinglians, 
92. 

Vestments  (ecclesiastical),  135 

—  origin  of,  13U,  141. 
Vine,  the,  236. 

Westminster  Abbey,  239. 
Wilhelm  Meister,  250. 
Wine,  44. 

—  mixed  with  water,  M. 


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